


If There's Life

by thoroughly_inktroverted



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cuteness overload, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, First Love, Get ready for fluff and feels, Hurt/Comfort, I don't even know anymore, Ino makes an amazing gay best friend, ItaHina trash through and through, Kindof Time Travel??? I Guess?????, M/M, Naruto is gay, Post-War, Romance, Slow Burn, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author is Sleep Deprived, They're like totes gay for each other, This is an Itahina fic I promise, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Uchiha Itachi Lives, Uchiha Itachi-centric, and i mean sloooooooow burn, but i promise it's worth it, hinata is a sweetheart, it really is just straight up fluff and feels, like seriously, lotsalove, so is Sasuke, somewhat slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoroughly_inktroverted/pseuds/thoroughly_inktroverted
Summary: "It's too late for me.""If there's life, it is never too late."~.~When the gods give humanity one last chance to accept the man they condemned, how will Itachi's return affect the village he died for? How will it affect the brother he loved so dearly? And what will he become to a lonely Hyuuga heiress?ItaHina/SasuNaruSasu/InoSaku, somewhat slow burn. Itachi revival story. Post-Fourth Shinobi War by about two years-ish.





	1. 1. Souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A decision is made...

_“Time is the fire in which we burn.”  
\- Gene Roddenberry._

~.~

Tsukuyomi watched with a sense of detached interest as his sister ran her fingers softly over the feather-like tendrils of her stolen human soul. The god had skin like the moon he represented, and hair and eyes like the night he dwelled within. He stood suspended in the endless darkness they found themselves in, with no sense of up or down, but his features lacked the mundane emotions of fear or surprise at the situation.

“Amaterasu,” he said, his voice weightless as the wind at twilight. “Was it really wise to take the human soul? Mother will be angry.”

Amaterasu did not look away from the soul held suspended between her hands, casting it's light around them and into the impenetrable shadows. Her porcelain face held traces of childlike wonder as she studied it, as if she knew she’d never understand it, but wished to all the same. Hair spilling out into the darkness like tendrils of flame, she closed her pale colorless eyes, and spoke. “Mother cannot reach us here, dear brother. She is confined to the limits of Yomi-no-Kuni. There will be no consequence.”

Tsukuyomi tilted his head. “Until father finds out.”

Amaterasu shook her head. “Yes, I know. But this… _human_ … he is worth the pain.”

After a long pause, Tsukuyomi seemed to let curiosity - or something similar - get the better of him, and came closer, reaching out a hand to brush lightly against the soft white light. “It is so bright…” he mused. “And young. He must have suffered greatly. Only the bright ones do.”

Amaterasu finally looked away from the soul, feeling uncomfortable with the mortal feelings of guilt and remorse spelled out in her eyes. “He caught my attention all the way from the mortal world from the moment he was created. I've never seen a human soul look so pure… I couldn't help but touch it. I didn't mean to make him suffer, though I suppose I should have known. All who are touched by fire must eventually burn.”

“Yours is truly a cursed touch,” Tsukuyomi agreed. “Humans are too used to the darkness. You gave him light, and they rejected him. You are right, sister, his soul is beautiful. But tell me, why do we find him alone in shadow? Surely one so pure would be found in the light.”

Amaterasu brought the soul closer to her, holding it like a mother would a child, and bowed her head. “He chose the darkness,” she whispered. “He did not believe himself worthy of light.”

“It is unlike the nature of humans to deny themselves what they want when it is presented. He must have been remarkable in life. It is sad, though, that a soul so bright would choose a darkness he does not deserve, don't you think?”

“He chose to embrace the night, but could never fully cut away the sun.” She seemed confused as she looked to her brother. “For a human, he was… truly _kind_.”

Tsukuyomi nodded and averted his gaze, withdrawing his hand from the soul and looking out into the darkness. “Well, you have him now. What will you do with him?”

“I'll give him back,” she replied.

“To Izanami?”

“No, to the humans.”

Now it was Tsukuyomi’s turn to regard his sister with confusion. “I thought they didn't want him?”

Amaterasu shook her head. “Humans are fickle, brother. They do not know what they want until it is unattainable. They do not see beauty until it is gone. They do not appreciate the light until the darkness takes it away. They know him now. They see. They appreciate. I will give them one last chance. Not for them, but for him.” 

Tsukuyomi hummed in acknowledgement. “There was another that, I admit, also caught my interest. The moon in his eyes and a soul whose glow was soft as starlight. I often fear it was my favor which caused the breaking if his wings. He tried to fly, and he fell, never knowing the warmth of the sun on his wings. But those sleepless eyes made great company in the night when I am most alone.”

“I will not take the pale eyed boy’s soul,” Amaterasu said. “He chose the light. He is with those he loves. He is happy. I will not steal him from his happiness and return him to a life of uncertainty. They would cage him again, brother, you know it. Your son of the moon... he deserves to fly.”

Tsukuyomi did not reply.

She sighed sadly and let the soul she gently cradled go, watching as it began to drift away, as if guided by an unknown tide. “I did this. I will now undo it, and it will weigh on me no more.” She smiled softly as the soul faded from sight. “Besides, there is another soul, a young female, which hums a tune not unlike his own. A girl with moonlit eyes to match his sunbeam heart. It would be a shame to let her sing unanswered.”

“Yes, sister, I agree.” Tsukuyomi turned away, and Amaterasu followed.

“Let them sing.”


	2. 2. Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shadow wakes alone in a dark wood.

_“For in this sleep of death,_  
What dreams may come?”  
\- William Shakespeare. 

~.~

He woke from death like one does from sleep; slowly, tentatively, as if clinging to the fragile traces of a dream he couldn’t recall. And if indeed he had been dreaming at all, it was such bittersweet sorrow to part with it. To let it slip through his grasp like water to be absorbed by the darkness. He could not remember letting it go until suddenly it was gone, leaving his heart clenching and his lungs gasping for something substantial to fill its loss.

For the first time in two years, he opened his heavy eyes, hoping to escape the darkness behind them, only to find more waiting for him. Air felt strange in his lungs. Heavy and harsh and painful, as if trying to take refuge in a place that hadn’t welcomed it for a long time. His limbs, once he had become aware of them, also felt out of place. He knew they were there, could feel his consciousness extending to settle within them, from his mind to his fingertips and on down to his toes. But they held no feeling.

The time it took him to be able to gather his sense of self into a coherent and functional consciousness must've been minutes at most, but it felt like hours. His lungs were still struggling to process the air. His spine felt so stiff and brittle, he was afraid if he tried to move, it would shatter.

_Who am I?_

The thought was sudden and unexpected, the first words he had heard since his awakening, and the issues it dragged to light brought his irregular breaths to a stuttering pause. For a long, heart-stopping moment, he couldn't remember. Beginning to panic in the face of his lack of identity, he wracked his brain for anything that could tell him who he was. What was his name? Why was he here? What was his purpose? 

He gasped as a sudden stab of pain scorched through his brain, bringing his hands up to cradle his head in the attempt to make it stop, only for it to get worse. There were images emerging from the darkness, colors and eyes and faces he couldn't yet recognise, so foreign and so achingly familiar. Their lips were moving, speaking the same word over and over again - in happiness, in tears, pleading, screaming, with hatred and with love… There were some images that saddened him, some that pained him, some that horrified him to such an extent that he dug his nails into his scalp and squeezed his eyes shut, desperate for the assault on his mind to stop.

There was always one face that stood out to him, though the images were faded and unfocused. It was an infant, a child, a boy, a man… and the face kept saying that same word he couldn't hear no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't escape the image of dark eyes, pained and lost and broken, hatred burning in their depths. The word was said again in a hundred different ways, a hundred different instances, in sunshine and in rain, in darkness and in light… and still there was no sound. 

The pain was unbearable now. Through it’s haze, he could faintly feel the hot wet touch of tears on his face, the taste of salt on his lips mixed with something stronger, something vaguely metallic, as he bit his tongue against the strangled cry which fought to escape. Nothing made sense. The pain, the nightmarish flashes of either dream or memory, though which, he was not certain. The confusion, the tears, and the overwhelming darkness which enveloped him - it all felt so horribly wrong. Somehow, someway, he knew his mere existence at that very moment was wrong.

When the pain finally became too much, the attack from his own mind too harsh, he opened his mouth to set free his scream of anger and torment and frustration. But before he could muster a single sound, there came the soft spoken words from a single long lost memory echoing around him, drowning out everything else, and he heard.

_“You truly are a kind child.”_

The sudden silence was deafening. He became suddenly rigid and still. The tears drained away as if they had never been, and slowly, he released his grip on his hair to let his hands drop limply to his sides. A deep inhale, a long exhale, no acknowledgement of the still protesting pair of lungs. Slowly, the tension in his body melted away.

Itachi Uchiha opened his eyes to darkness once more, and was not surprised. Coming back from death, as it would seem, was a long and painful process. His sight, like his sense of self, would likely take longer to find him. It would seem all other senses were in working order, however. He could hear the light rustle of wind through leafy treetops, the lower steady hum of nighttime insects, and the lonely calls of a distant owl. Beneath him, he could feel the soft tickle of thousands of blades of grass. The air had a sharp, crisp taste to it, and the scent of autumn filled his nose with another long inhale.

It was at this point that Itachi noticed he was at least decently clothed, the lack of contact with the grass anywhere but his feet and hands being an immediate giveaway. Lifting one hand, he ran his fingers lightly across the soft fabric wrapped loosely around his torso. He could not see it, but the simple shirt and pants felt like some strange mix of cotton and silk, and though they were very soft, the thin layers did little to protect against the harsh touch of winter in the wind. 

Drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself in the effort to conserve heat, Itachi leaned forward to rest his head against them and used a moment to ponder his current situation. He took the pain still hammering at his skull and tucked it away to address later - as well as his minute embarrassment at his initial lack of composure… though he couldn't deny that once he'd regained his self awareness and understanding of his memories, he now almost wished for the amnesia to return, if only to escape the pain those memories brought.

Despite Itachi’s understanding of himself and his surroundings, there was one question which continued to unsettle him. That question was simply; why? Why was he hearing the sounds of the forest? Why was he able to focus on the feeling of the grass between his toes? Why was his his skin responding to the cold autumn wind? Why was his lungs taking in air? Was was he awake and aware at all?

Itachi was supposed to be dead.

So why wasn't he?

No matter how deeply he searched his mind, Itachi could not find an answer. He was still trying when he felt the presence of another chakra signature nearby. He'd given up and lifted his head by the time the other shinobi revealed himself. 

His eyesight was beginning it's slow return, the darkness giving way to gray and shapeless shadows, and he focused on the one which looked most like the silhouette of a man. Though he could not see his features, he could tell by his energy that he was strong, and by the erratic shifting of the chakra in his veins, that he was nervous. 

Letting out a quiet sigh, Itachi closed his eyes. “If you are looking for a fight, I'm afraid you won't get much from me.”

However, instead of responding with a knife in his back, the shinobi stiffened and whispered, “Itachi Uchiha… it _is you_ …!”

Itachi opened his eyes again when he heard the unknown ninja’s knees hit the ground and strained to see through the dark haze as his shadow seemed to set something before him. Not long after, the familiar sound of a small summoning jutsu reached his ears. When the ninja stood again and began walking towards him, the weary Uchiha turned his head away. Whatever was happening with him, whatever was going on to make him come back from death the way he had, it would seem his short time back was ending here. He wouldn't fight it.

Itachi stiffened when he felt the heavy cloth drape over his shoulders. Not bothering to hide his surprise, he rubbed the edge of it between his fingers, recognizing the standard woolen cloaks every leaf shinobi carried for missions in cold weather. 

“Can you stand, Uchiha-san?” The newly dubbed “Leaf” shinobi asked, placing his hand on his shoulder, willingly touching him. 

The kindness in his voice only furthered Itachi’s confusion, but he nodded and began to push himself from the ground, legs shaking with the effort. When he stumbled and instinctively grabbed the other man’s arm for support, he didn't flinch or pull away and let him fall. Instead, he took a firm hold of his arm and brought it around his shoulders, supporting the Uchiha’s weight.

Itachi huffed a small, dry laugh. “So you're not here to kill me, then?” He said as the unknown man - who should, by all accounts, despise him - began helping him move forward. Progress was slow, and Itachi assumed his legs - like his eyes - just needed to adjust to being alive.

The shinobi chuckled good naturedly. “No, Uchiha-san. I'm not here to kill you. Relax, no one wants you dead.”

That statement alone caused Itachi to stumble in surprise, and he would have surely hit the ground had the shinobi’s hands not been there to steady him. 

“Forgive me, but surely you are mistaken. As far as I know, everyone who even knows my name wants me dead.” Itachi said, casting his gaze to the shinobi questioningly. He could make out some details in his attire now, what looked to be the familiar standard ANBU uniform, but all features of the face were still unknown.

“I know your name,” the ANBU man said matter-of-factly. “I know who you are. I know what you've done. Most importantly, I know _why_ you did it. Everyone does, thanks to your brother and his… _friend_.”

Itachi wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing, allowing the shinobi to continue guiding him. Presumably to the leaf village, where Itachi had no doubt his brain would likely be scanned by the Yamanaka and the rest of the Intelligence Unit. They would need to be sure he was really who they thought he was, after all, before he was brought to the Hokage. Or perhaps it would be the other way around? Still, Itachi wondered how much a fight his beloved brother had put up to get the village to see the truth of his betrayal. The thought unsettled him. He'd never wanted anyone to know.

“Is your sight returning to you alright?” The shinobi asked after they'd already walked a fair distance. “I remember Kakashi-san had a hard time adjusting his left eye after Nagato’s rinne-rebirth jutsu brought him back.”

“That was when Nagato’s six paths destroyed Konoha, yes?” Itachi asked, the details of that fight blurred since he'd been otherwise preoccupied at the time. 

“Correct.”

Itachi turned his head to look at the ANBU and did his best to hide a knowing smile. He could now see his newfound ally’s face. “Yes, I believe my eyes are healing just fine. Tell me, Tenzo-san, how did you know my struggle would be the same as Kakashi’s?”

If Itachi’s old friend was surprised to hear his name, he didn't show it, only smiled a little wider. “Tsunade-sama believes that the eyes with bloodline limits take longer to adjust due to their heightened sensitivity. And considering you were practically blind when you died, it would make sense that your own eyes, however strong, would succumb to the same sensitivities.”

Itachi neither confirmed nor denied these theories, just smiled contentedly in a way which - true to his character - spoke everything, yet revealed nothing.

“We’re passing into the village now,” Tenzo said, dropping his voice down to nearly a whisper. “Would you mind pulling up the hood of your cloak?”

Itachi nodded and complied. He could see the looming shadow of the main gates arching above them, and soon enough, felt the many layers of barriers and seals that surrounded the place like a protective shell sliding smoothly over his skin. Most of the seals and barriers were relatively recent, but it would seem that some of the older ones had survived Pein’s attack, as well as the war with Madara. He could feel their age and use, a forgotten power hundreds of years old, passed down from Uzushio and lost to time.

It would have been awe inspiring had Itachi not spent the first thirteen years of his life in the village.

“Only the highest level shinobi know of your existence right now. It was just us who felt the small flare of Chakra when you appeared. Hokage-sama wanted to keep this a secret for now until we've had time to investigate and bring you up to date on everything that’s happened.” Tenzo explained as they turned in the direction of the Hokage tower. “It’s best no one sees your face for a while.”

Itachi bowed his head in agreement. “I understand. Will I be seeing the Hokage first, or Morino-san?”

Tenzo stiffened for a moment, his chakra adopting a nervous flutter. “Hokage,” he muttered. “Itachi, I believe you really are who you appear to be, it’s just -”

Itachi shook his head, cutting him off. “I know, Tenzo. Don't sound so guilty. I was dead, and now I'm alive. It's only logical for my credibility to be questioned. For the good of the village, Ibiki should interrogate me. Any sane shinobi would.”

Tenzo chuckled nervously. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

Itachi smiled. The action felt strange, and he wondered how long it had been since he'd allowed himself the freedom of such emotional expression. A very long time, he assumed. 

“Don't worry,” the other shinobi said. “If the Hokage believes you, I'm sure she’ll ask that you be handled with care.”

“Whatever they do,” Itachi said, smile slipping from his face as if it was never there, “believe me when I say that I have been through worse.”

Tenzo glanced at him, sadness written plainly in his ebony eyes. “I do.”

Whatever conversation came next was put on hold as they entered the Hokage tower. Somehow, Itachi knew that whatever happened beyond that point would determine his future in the village he’d thought he would never see again. He could only hope that future was good, even as he prepared himself for the worst.

Masked ANBU appeared silently on either side of the two as they traversed the darkened halls. They said nothing and made no move against him, just followed as if they’d always been there. There was a pause as they stopped before a plain wooden door. The suspense in the air was palpable as Tenzo lifted his hand to knock.

“Come in,” came the calm, somewhat muffled reply.

With one last glance to his companion who intently watched his every move, Tenzo turned the knob and together they entered the Hokage’s office, the ANBU close behind.


	3. 3. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of respect goes a long way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna dump this here a day early, cuz why the hell not? If it's done, it's done.

_“Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.”_  
\- Albus Dumbledore, J. K. Rowling’s ‘Harry Potter’.

~.~

The Hokage was a stern looking woman. Stern and cold and distant. Though perhaps, Itachi supposed, this was based purely on the situation she had found herself in. And at such an ungodly hour of the night, too. Even so, her brown eyes held a degree of warmth that could only be cultivated by one’s content with their life as it currently was. If Itachi was a bit saddened by that look, for reasons he had no care to explain… well, he did not let that sadness show.

“Tsunade-sama,” Tenzo said politely as he and the other ANBU agents kneeled, heads bowed and eyes trained respectfully on the ground. Out of old ingrained habit, Itachi followed suit. 

He could feel the Hokage’s gaze on him as the room went stiff and silent. He was reminded rather forcefully of the day he kneeled in that very same position, in a room with an atmosphere much heavier, while Danzo and the council sealed his family’s fate. He had been thirteen then. He’d been twenty one when he died. Eight years, he’d lived with the consequences of that night. He wondered what consequences this one would bring.

“Why do you kneel, Itachi Uchiha?” Tsunade asked after a long pause during which the room seemed to hold its breath.

“Because you are Hokage, Tsunade Senju,” he replied calmly. “Your presence demands respect.”

“And you respect me?”

Itachi could hear the raised eyebrow in that question and the confusion that accompanied it. He fought the urge to look up, keeping his features neutral. “You have not killed me yet,” he said simply. “That alone deserves whatever respect I have to give - until, of course, the opposite is true. But then I would be dead, so what, then, would my respect matter?”

She was smiling now. He had to glance up to confirm it, but there it was. A small, amused smile unfurling across her lips. “You have quite the way with words, I must admit,” she said.

Itachi did not believe that smile. Not even for a second. When she lunged, he was ready, moving just in time for her fist to break the floor and not his face. In less than a second, that same fist had grasped the front of his borrowed cloak and pulled him forward until he was looking straight into her eyes. Their warmth had become a wildfire, and the younger man had no doubt that if she had possessed the power, he would already be burning.

“Do not think for _one second_ that I believe you are who you appear to be,” she snarled menacingly. “Who are you? A rogue nin putting on a loved one’s face in the attempt to catch the village off guard? Because it won’t work! This is the end of the line for you!”

Out of everything that had happened to him since waking, it would seem Tsunade’s words were what it took to really put his situation into perspective. Itachi supposed he'd been… numb with shock, in a sense. Disbelief. Yes, that was it. A part of him hadn't believed Tenzo when he’d told him no one wanted to hurt him. That the village respected him. It was that one thing Tsunade said that cracked his resolve.

“Well?! Answer me, damn it!” Tsunade snarled. But her hostility was replaced with surprise when her captive’s mask of calm crumbled a bit, revealing a glimpse of deep internalized pain.

“I am… _loved_?” Itachi said incredulously. It was so obvious now. This was a dream. It had to be. The afterlife was giving him a piece of light with the sole intention of taking it away. There was no other explanation. People like him, who did the things he had done, didn't deserve to be loved. Not by old comrades. Not by betrayed trust and wounded villages. Not by foolish little brothers.

Tsunade’s mouth opened to speak, but no sound came out. The room had taken on a deafening silence. No one moved. No one breathed. Slowly, Tsunade’s fist slackened, then withdrew from the front of his cloak completely. Itachi watched, reconstructing the pieces of his facade and silently cursing himself for his lack of control.

The Hokage, having regained her composure, the heat in her eyes reduced to a smolder, straightened and brushed off her sleeves. “Well, whomever or _whatever_ you are, we’ll know when Ibiki is done with you.”

Tenzo stiffened visibly. As if on cue, there came a short, firm knock at the door.

“Come in,” Tsunade said as she returned to her chair behind the desk. As the door opened to reveal the Head of the Interrogations Unit, she began to absently straighten the piles of paperwork she'd sent into disarray when she'd gone for Itachi.

Ibiki Morino’s eyes narrowed as he took in the form of the Uchiha kneeling beside Tenzo with the other ANBU before the Hokage. With a heavy frown, he looked away and addressed his leader curtly. 

“Hokage-sama.”

Tsunade folded her hands and gave a small nod. “Morino-san.”

“So this is the Uchiha imposter, hmm?” He said, not even bothering with a single glance at the man in question.

“That hasn't been decided,” Tenzo spoke up, tone calm, though his shoulders were visibly hunched in defense.

“Quiet, Tenzo.” Tsunade snapped, eyes narrowed at her subordinate. “Just because your mask is off doesn’t mean you're not on duty.” her sharp eyes adopted a touch of sympathy. “I know you were fond of Itachi before the massacre. I'm well aware of how excited and hopeful the events of the past week has got everyone, but we need to take every precaution when the lives of our people are at stake.”

Itachi repressed the urge to flinch at the mention of the massacre, closing his eyes in the attempt to bury the memories before they had a chance to surface. He didn’t think he’d ever not be reminded of that night every time he turned around, but the day he got used to it was the day he lost his humanity, and of that, he had no intention. Still, Tsunade’s mention of “the events of the past week” caught his interest. What was going on? Did they knew more about his revival than they were letting on? Itachi was determined to find out.

Tenzo bowed his head in guilt. “Yes, Hokage-sama.” He returned to staring at the floor and did not speak again. If his ANBU companions approved of his outburst or not, they gave no sign. 

“Hokage-sama, do you permit me to take him to headquarters?” Ibiki asked. It was clear he was not a patient man, and whatever patience he did possess was beginning to wear thin.

Tsunade nodded her assent. “Yes, please do. I want the truth of his identity by noon tomorrow, understood?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

“Good.” Tsunade sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t make me give Naruto and Sasuke bad news,” she said quietly, more to herself than to the inhabitants of the now crowded room. “They don’t deserve the pain.”

Itachi’s eyes snapped open at the mention of Sasuke. Why hadn’t he known his brother was there? He couldn’t feel the younger Uchiha’s chakra anywhere in the village. Was it masked? Suppressed? How much time had passed since they’d seen each other? Itachi longed to see his brother’s face again. He had to restrain himself from fleeing the office then and there and searching every nook and crevice in the village until he found him, no matter the consequence. 

There was no stopping him; he would find Sasuke, but not now. For now, he would play along until the time was right. So for the time being, he filed ‘ _find Sasuke_ ’ under his growing To-Do List.

“Tsunade-sama, permission to bind the captive’s chakra,” Ibiki said, less as a question and more as a statement. “He was weak and hardly a threat when he arrived, but his strength is returning and there’s no telling what he could do if not properly restrained.”

“Permission granted,” Tsunade responded. She waved her hand in dismissal. “Do it and go. The faster this is done, the faster everything is cleared up, and the sooner I can stop hiding things from Naruto. It’s been such a hassle keeping him out of the loop, and the sooner he stops bugging me about it, the better.”

“Understood.” Ibiki turned and motioned to one of the ANBU in the room - a smaller, wiry framed boy with long dark hair and a mask resembling a Kestrel. 

The boy with the Kestrel mask nodded back and stood, stepping cautiously in front of Itachi. “This may hurt,” he said, softly enough for only Itachi to hear, his hands beginning to glow as pale blue chakra sprung to life at his fingertips. Itachi knew immediately what he was going to do. Without any further warning, the boy’s hands became a blur, striking out at him faster than the human eye could see. When he was finished, several points along his arms, torso, and neck took on a sharp throbbing pain, before fading into numbness, taking his chakra with it and holding it out of his reach.

“Can you stand?” the Kestrel boy asked.

Itachi nodded and did just that, the movement more smooth and fluid than the first time. The other ANBU stood as well, immediately closing in around him like a cage to ensure he wouldn’t try and escape. The Uchiha could feel their eyes on him, though he couldn’t see them behind their masks. Some were wary, some were cold. Many seemed unsure. When Ibiki turned and strode towards the door, the Hyuga boy in the Kestrel mask paused a moment in indecision, then placed a light hesitant hand on his shoulder to move him forward, acting as if Itachi was a wild animal who could snap at any moment. 

Itachi didn’t, of course, but he’d expected nothing less from a loyal Konoha Shinobi. In a small, minute way, he was even _proud_.

“Morino-san,” Tsunade called, just as Ibiki’s fingers brushed the doorknob.

Ibiki froze, turning his head slightly in acknowledgement. “Yes, Hokage-sama?”

Tsunade studied Itachi for a moment, brown eyes unreadable. Finally, she said, “Take it easy on him. If he really is Itachi Uchiha, the village has no right to cause him pain after everything he’s done. And I don’t want to explain to Sasuke why we tortured his Aniki. Are we clear?”

Ibiki nodded stiffly. “Yes, Hokage-sama.” Without waiting for a reply, the Head of Interrogations opened the door in one swift movement - perhaps with a bit more force than was strictly necessary - and left the room. The ANBU and the quiet Uchiha followed close behind, leaving just Tsunade and Tenzo in the silence of the otherwise empty office.

A minute or two later, after the sounds of the group’s waking down the long hallway had faded completely, Tenzo spoke. “Do you think it’s him, Tsunade-sama?”

Tsunade sighed, leaning back in her chair and staring at the ceiling in heavy thought. “I… just don’t know. I don’t know what to think. This whole week has been so bizzare. Has this ever even happened in Shinobi history?”

“I don’t think so, Tsunade-sama.”

Tsunade shook her head. “Well, if anyone can sort through his head for an answer, it’s Ino... I only hope what she sees doesn’t break them both.”

Tenzo said nothing, and the two fell into the silence once more.

… That is, until the door suddenly burst open, slamming into the wall hard enough to crack the plaster and cause nearby picture frames to fall and shatter. In the doorway stood Naruto, gasping as he fought to catch his breath, hair tousled from sleep and still dressed in his sleep clothes. He stepped into the office, blue eyes wide with shock.

“Tsunade-baba!” He shouted. “You’ll never believe it, but I swear, I _just_ felt Itachi’s chakra!”

His only response was Tenzo’s weary sigh and Tsunade’s forehead hitting the desk with a solid ‘ _thunk_ ’.


	4. 4. Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of kindness can melt the coldest hearts.

_“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”  
\- Aesop._

~.~

Ino shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, arms crossed and hands fidgeting as she waited. She sighed, running her fingers through her long blond hair and tried not to think about how much she'd rather be at home in bed with her lover instead of in the company of grumpy men in the interrogation room. She could not see the sky (the interrogation rooms being underground as they were), but she knew dawn was likely little more than an hour away.

The room Ino and the three Shinobi men stood in was shrouded almost completely in darkness. Everything around them was stone. The floors were stone, the walls were stone… hell, the chair which stood alone in the middle of the room was completely carved from stone. It was the chair they used specifically for the interrogation subjects, surrounded by a large intricate seal spiraling outward in a circle of inky black, lines twisting in shapes and patterns Ino could never fully begin to comprehend.

One of the three, a man from her clan with blond hair grown to shoulder length, half of it pulled back with a dark blue ribbon to match his eyes, held an ink pot and brush in his hands as he worked to redraw parts of the seal that had begun to fade and wear away with time and use. He was in an especially bad mood that morning. His wife had given birth to twins very recently and he hadn’t been getting much sleep. Ino had had to wake him from his rare hour or two of rest to be in the interrogation room with her, as he was one of the only shinobi in the clan whose abilities were powerful enough to pull her out of the subject’s head if something went wrong. She only hoped he wasn’t too exhausted to do just that if the worst came about.

Her cousin stood, capping the ink pot, and rubbed an ink stained hand over his eyes tiredly in the attempt to make them focus. “It’s all ready now, Ino-sama,” he muttered.

“Thank you, Itsuki,” Ino said as softly as she could in the echoing room. She sympathized with her clanmate and didn’t want to make the mission harder on him than it already was. Hopefully everything went fine and they could be out of there before the village began to fully wake.

“Don’t mention it,” Itsuki grumbled, shuffling over to the nearest wall and leaning against it with a sigh, eyes falling shut. 

Ino watched him for a moment, biting her lip worriedly, then turned towards the other side of the room. Leaning against the wall across from her was a fifteen year old Aburame boy by the name of Shinya. Like every Aburame Ino had ever met, he wore dark glasses to hide his observant eyes, and a large, thick coat to hide the rest of him. The poor boy looked so much like the rest of his family that even though he’d been with the Interrogation unit for almost three years, he still had to introduce himself to Ino nearly every time they saw each other. This was exactly the reason that he, too, was in a foul mood that morning. She could tell by the clipped responses and somewhat heavy weight to his aura.

And finally, sitting against the wall not two feet away from Shinya, was none other than Ino’s old teammate and one of her very best friends, Shikamaru Nara. And for once in his eighteen year lifespan, the young man seemed to be actually _fighting_ the urge to sleep. He, like the rest of them, had been dragged out of bed to help the Interrogations Unit with a highly classified case, and had been given express instructions to keep silent about it until Tsunade said otherwise.

Ino didn't know whose mind she was supposed to be going into, but was told the situation had the potential to be incredibly dangerous. Itsuki was there to help her out of the subject’s mind if she became trapped. Shikamaru was to keep him still so he couldn't go after them once she released him. Shinya had been chosen to help out because of the way his beetles were able to sense and control chakra and was to help suppress it if the need arose. Finally, Ibiki and a handful of ANBU were going to be close by to lend a hand if all else failed.

“Ino, stop thinking, will ya?” Shikamaru groaned as he stifled a yawn, dark eyes weary and stressed beneath his mask of annoyance. “You’re making my brain hurt just watching you.”

Any other time, Ino would have argued, or snapped a witty retort, but the heaviness of the room and the exhaustion which radiated in waves from everyone stayed her tongue. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away, muttering a barely audible apology. Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed in the way that they did when he was calculating someone’s actions, reading her like he would a Shogi board, but he said no more.

They felt them approaching before they heard or saw them. She could feel the cold ice of Ibiki’s chakra steadily approaching, the mixed variety that was the anbu - was one of them hyuuga? Ino couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t have time to find out before she felt him. 

He was the subject they were supposed to gather information from, she knew, because she could feel the binds and seals suppressing his chakra. But it was the feel of that chakra that sent shivers down her spine. It consumed her senses, burning like the swirling flames of a wildfire, crackling like lightning, raging like the winds of a thunderstorm. The sheer weight of his power was unlike anything she had ever felt before. He felt even stronger than _Madara Uchiha_ … Ino’s hands began to shake, heart pounding in her ears.

“Shi… Shika…” She stuttered, voice betraying her fear. “He… th-that’s… he’s…”

“Ino, calm down,” Shikamaru said quietly, though his hands were shaking as well and there was a slight quiver to his voice. “It’s okay, I feel it too. They’ve got it under control, or they wouldn’t be bringing him down here.” He caught her gaze and held it, caring and firm, tiredness long gone. “It’s okay, Ino. We won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll be okay.”

Ino stared back for a long moment, then slowly nodded, clasping her hands together to stop their shaking as she turned towards the door. “Thank you… Shikamaru.”

“Hn… wasn’t too troublesome.”

The opening of the door echoed throughout the room. Shikamaru stood and walked towards the chair to stand beside Ino, his arms crossed and his shoulders tense. Shinya remained where he was, though his aura had taken on a feel of sharp focus, while Itsuki stood up straighter so he wasn’t leaning on the wall, forcing his blue eyes wide open. Barrier seals set up around the room flared to life in a flash of blue light as Ibiki stepped up to the threshold, but with several complicated hand signs and a few muttered words, the light faded away and the heavily armed group entered one by one.

Ino gasped when she saw his face. “Shi… Shika…” she began again. “He… that’s… he’s…!”

“ _Itachi Uchiha_ …” Shikamaru finished for her, not bothering to try and calm his friend that time around. He’s supposed to be dead!

Then Itachi lifted his head, obsidian eyes falling on the group standing with open mouths before him. The only sound was Itsuki’s clay inkpot shattering across the floor.

"Holy _shit_." Itsuki breathed.

Ibiki cleared his throat - the harsh sound alone causing everyone else except Itachi to stand up a little straighter - and spoke, deep voice resounding loudly off the stone walls and floor. “Interrogations Team number Twenty-Seven. I assume you’ve already been briefed on this mission?”

“We didn’t think it was…” Ino started, then trailed off as she faced Ibiki’s cold stare.

“They never told us _who_ we’d be interrogating,” Shikamaru said firmly, stance becoming rigid. “This man is hailed as a _hero_. We can’t just-”

“It’s Hokage-sama’s orders,” Ibiki cut him off, eyes narrowed. “We don’t know for sure that he _is_ the late Itachi. For the safety of the village, we have to be certain before we let him go. That’s where you come in.”

An ANBU agent wearing a mask depicting a Kestrel retracted his hand from his captive’s shoulder, hissing, “Sure feels like Itachi to me. His aura's so strong, standing next to him is giving me a headache.” Some of the other ANBU began to nod in agreement, but froze when Ibiki sent them all a warning glare, opting to look away and pretend their comrade hadn’t said anything.

Shikamaru looked as if he wanted to say more, but he held his tongue. Nara Clan Head aside, Ibiki was still his superior for this assignment, and there were consequences for insubordination that he wouldn’t put it past the man to follow through with.

Ino sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as she collected herself, then opened them again, eyes narrowed in concentration. When she spoke, her voice was strong and did not waiver. “What memories will I be looking for, Morino-san?”

“There are key known points you have to view and confirm, the first being the meeting with the council and Danzo that decided the fate of the Uchiha clan, then Shisui Uchiha's supposed suicide. From there, you will find the massacre and confirm that it was, in fact, Obito Uchiha who aided in the slaughter,” Ibiki began, ignoring the way she tensed nervously at the thought of viewing such a horrifying event. “Other memories to look for include Itachi’s fight with Kakashi, his encounter with Naruto and Jiraiya, his fight with Sasuke, and his fight with Kabuto. Do you have any questions?”

Ino was silent for a moment, closing her eyes and calming herself, before lifting her head stubbornly and looking Ibiki straight in the eye. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, spit it out, then.”

“...Will torture be necessary, sir?”

Ibiki smirked. “That depends on how well you do your job. Now, are you ready to begin?”

A sharp nod. “Yes, sir.”

Ino was amazed at how easy it was to get the captive to the chair. He did not hesitate stepping into the seal circle. He did not need to be forced to sit. He did not fight when Shikamaru’s shadows wound around him to bind him to the chair, or when Shinya’s insects settled along his chakra points to further suppress them. It was only when she stepped forward and placed her fingers on either side of his temple that she felt him tense.

_In my experience_ , she thought, _imposters don't submit to interrogation so willingly. Maybe…_ She adjusted her touch so that it was a bit gentler, and whispered softly, “I'm sorry, but this will hurt.” _Just in case_ , she told herself.

If he was concerned, his face did not show it. Smooth like porcelain and impenetrable as stone, he stared back at her with steady, unreadable eyes. Their empty depths sent shivers down her spine, but still, she persisted. She still couldn't quite wrap her brain around the fact that _this man_ was the brother Sasuke had hated so much, yet loved so deeply. The man who had been ordered to murder his clan to save the village from civil war.

And Ino knew firsthand how painful someone entering your mind could be. To learn, you must first experience. Like anything else, the skills must be demonstrated, and then tested by yourself in order to stick. She remembered the first time her father had tapped into her mind. Chakra had shot from his fingertips like barbs through her skull and into her brain, burying themselves deeply and spreading out to cover it in its entirety. The feeling of hot knives digging into the parts which stored feeling, sight, and memory was something she would never forget. It was different from possession - with that, you simply smother their consciousness with your own. With this technique used for information gathering, it's a direct assault on their mind itself, and Ino couldn't help but sympathize.

If she was surprised at the Itachi lookalike’s behavior before, she was thoroughly impressed when she entered his mind. He did not flinch. He did not scream. He did not cry, or struggle, or curse like others did. He simply closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, and allowed her in without so much as a single barrier around his thoughts to bypass. So in return for how much easier he had made the job for her, she sent the needles into his brain as quickly as possible, then followed them with a cooling wave of healing chakra to soothe the resulting pain.

_You are being kind_ , his mind said to her, making her pause before entering his memories. His voice was a clear, low tenor, calm and cool as the surface of water. 

_Yes_ , she sent back.

_Interrogation shinobi shouldn't be. Your job is to extract the information you need and leave. Kindness in this setting is unrewarding and only gets in the way._

This _interrogation shinobi_ is _kind, and trust me, it won't hinder my ability to gather information any more than if I were being cruel._ She paused, then said, _besides, it wouldn't do to hurt you, only to find out you really are Itachi Uchiha. When we’re done here, I'd sooner have you remember me for mercy, not pain._

_Spoken like a true Kunoichi_ , he responded in a tone which held a hint of respect.

_And a Kunoichi, I am_ , she said, making sure the respect in her own voice was clear. _Now, shall we get started? The sooner we finish, the sooner it won't hurt, and the sooner we can clear up this mess and go home._

_… Very well._

She sent a hum of acknowledgement at his verbal consent. Without another word, the Ino in the room outside his head drew in a deep breath before pushing her way into his memories, allowing her sight to go black.


	5. 5. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the most pain comes not from living a memory in the moment, but from remembering it afterwards in misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alrighty, guys, here's the fifth chapter of If There's Life. I hope you guys enjoy it. Michigan made me take three standardized tests this week, one of which was the Hell that is SAT's, and my brain feels like mush (gods, I hate being a Junior), but I still took the time to write this for you. And I made it a thousand words longer than usual, too.
> 
> As always, please enjoy this installment, and remember; comments are my literal lifeline. This story probably wouldn't have made it this far without them.

_“The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.”  
\- Marcus Tullius Cicero._

~.~

When the blackness faded, Ino stood in a large open space. She would call it a room, but such a label would technically be inaccurate, since there were no walls to define it. In the place of walls or a ceiling was a deep, impenetrable mist, churning and rippling, drifting inwards in a thin layer across the tatami mat floor. The mist unnerved Ino. If she stared hard enough, she thought she could see shadows shifting through it. If she listened intently enough, she thought she heard whispers, quiet and muffled by the crushing silence.

She tore her eyes away before she could start thinking to much about it. Everyone’s mind was different, it wasn't her place to judge. Besides, the blond couldn't deny that she'd seen worse.

In the space stood long rows of shelves which towered above Ino’s head. On the shelves were rows upon rows of scrolls. Some were small, some were large. Some were thick and some were thin. Some looked brand new, while others were yellowed and crinkled with age. What startled Ino the most was that some were literally _on fire_ , while others _bled_ , while still others looked as if they were _weeping_.

_So this is how his brain stores his memories_ , Ino thought incredulously as she stepped up to a shelf, lifting her hand near one that was enveloped in flame to feel its heat on her skin. Before she could stop herself, she dipped her entire hand in the flames, just to see if it would hurt. She got her answer immediately, yelping as she jerked it back, but her hand was unburnt. It was an entirely different pain than she’d expected, not so much physical as it was emotional. Even after backing away a bit, she could still feel it raging through her veins. Clawing down her throat. Ripping through her lungs. Tearing at her heart, which was sorely unprepared to handle such anguish. It was the kind of feeling that was angry and hurt and heartbroken all at once. She’d felt something similar once, when Asuma had lay dying at her feet, but this… this was at least _twenty times_ worse.

“Oh my god…” Ino whispered as she stared at the burning scroll in horror, hand clutching at her aching heart. She hardly registered the tears gathering in her eyes from the shock of it. “What did they do to you?”

With one last glance at her unmarked hand, watching as the light from the fire sent flickering patterns across her skin, Ino reached up and wiped her eyes, stealing herself for the task ahead. There were no labels on the memory scrolls - at least as far as she could tell, so she'd have to just pick one. Trial and error was common in her line of work, hence why it usually took so long to get specific information.

Just as the blond was reaching for the scroll once more, a larger hand shot out and caught her wrist. She flinched, suppressing the shriek bubbling up her throat, and whirled around. Ino went completely stiff as she came face to face with glowing red eyes.

“Not that one,” Itachi said calmly, though his voice held a hint of wariness. “At least, not _yet_.”

“H-hold on, you’re… how did… huh?” Ino squeaked, suddenly wishing Shikamaru was there to calm her down and help her be a bit more coherent. He was good like that.

“These eyes see everything,” he explained in a way that reminded her heavily of Sasuke, though not in an overly obvious way. She heard her old crush in the words formed as they left his lips - the subtle rises and dips in tone and the emphasis on certain vowels. Saw him in the way Itachi’s intense gaze practically screamed everything on his mind yet hid it all completely from view at the same time.

Damn, it was a good thing Ino was married to a woman.

But obvious relation to his younger brother aside, his sudden appearance had Ino feeling uneasy. His chakra was supposed to be bound, which means he shouldn't have been able to follow her, and he shouldn't have been able to activate the Sharingan. Add in the fact that the young woman wasn't completely sure he even _was_ Itachi Uchiha, and not some missing nin who just so happens to be really good at deception… well, let's just say Ino really didn't want to get trapped in someone’s mind or stabbed in the back any time soon.

He felt her wariness - the way the chakra needles in his brain dug in just a bit more, how her hold on his head in the interrogation room tightened almost minutely… and, of course, the guarded look she'd adopted standing in front of him. Itachi had to remind himself that he wasn't the most harmless looking person, and the current circumstances made it nearly impossible for anyone to trust him as of yet.

Not that they _should_ trust him. He didn't even trust _himself_.

“I apologize for frightening you,” he said, releasing the blond woman’s wrist and stepping back, removing himself from her space. She'd been kind to him initially when it hadn't been strictly necessary for her to do so. The least he could do was offer some respect in return.

Once released, Ino retracted her hand with such a speed one would think she had been burned. Her pale, pupil-less blue eyes held a certain hardness as she pointedly stared at his shoulder, avoiding his blood red gaze. She did not outwardly display her distrust of him, but he could feel it all the same.

“The Sharingan,” she said after a moment as she appeared to gather her composure. “How did you activate it? I thought we blocked your chakra…”

“Being a member of the Akatsuki for eight years has its benefits,” Itachi responded, opting not to answer her question directly. Every shinobi has their secrets, after all.

Ino narrowed her eyes, staring hard at him for a while longer, before forcing her tensed shoulders to relax. If the man didn’t end up being the older Uchiha brother (and she was actually beginning to think he _was_ )... well, she’d pry it out of him one way or another.

“... Alright,” she spoke, voice a little more resigned than before. She turned her head to look back at the flaming memory scroll and cleared her throat. “You said I couldn’t watch that one yet. Why?”

To Ino’s complete surprise, this question made the reserved, nearly unreadable man look almost… uncomfortable.

“You are the first leaf shinobi who will ever see my memories from my point of view,” he said quietly, a dark shadow seeming to fall over his face. “I don’t want the Uchiha Massacre to be the first thing you see. I’d much rather you go in order and get the full story, if you don’t mind.”

Ino found herself nodding in agreement before she could stop herself. Either his discomfort had swayed her or her apprehension about viewing such a violent event, but either way, she figured Itachi knew his way around his memories better than she did. How could she refuse? He hadn’t yet done a single thing to convince her he was a dangerous rogue ninja bent on Konoha’s destruction.

“I don't know where to start,” the blond admitted, trying her best to swallow the bitter taste of shame that came with it. Ino had been conducting interrogations for the past few years, had rooted through countless minds so jumbled she’d wondered how some people could even _function_ , and she still couldn't figure out the way the man’s mind worked. There were literally _thousands_ of scrolls, none of them labeled, each one of them different from the last. She suppressed the urge to laugh incredulously. Leave it to Itachi Uchiha to have the most complicated mind the leader of the Yamanaka clan had ever come across.

Itachi said nothing in response, just stepped around her and up to the shelves, red eyes scanning each scroll carefully as he slowly made his way down the rows. He lifted one pale skinned hand, fingertips brushing lightly against the rolls of paper, whether they be crumbling or smooth, drenched or in flames. If he was feeling any emotions like she had, as intensely as she had, Ino couldn’t tell. The blank Uchiha mask had been put back firmly in place.

The scroll his hand finally came to rest upon was somewhat smaller in size. The paper had a strange, weary look to it. Lines marred the edges like veins, as if put under an intense amount of stress. As if someone had pulled it as taught as it could withstand without tearing and simply never let it go.

“Ibiki said you needed the memory from the day I recieved my mission from Danzo, the Sandaime, and the council first, correct?” Itachi asked as he carefully removed the scroll from the shelf.

Ino nodded mutely, unable to tear her eyes away from the scroll long enough to respond. When he held it out to her, she flinched, as if someone had marched up and pinched her. Hard. She reached out for it, then paused, looking up to him as if asking for permission. When he said nothing, making no move to take the scroll away, the blond took it from him gingerly.

“Are you sure you want to see these memories?” He asked quietly after a moment. “They are quite… vivid.”

Ino took a long breath, taking her time as she let it out, before squaring her shoulders and standing up straight. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, allowing herself to feel prideful when her voice didn’t waiver. “It’s my job, after all. Are you sure you want to go through them with me? They must be painful for you.”

Her only response was a small twitch of the lips. A barely there, gone-before-you-knew-it type of smile. Feeling suddenly motivated, she grabbed the edge of the scroll and pulled, descending into the familiar darkness which always came before the memories.

Ino hadn’t even seen his memories yet, and she was already ready to believe wholeheartedly that the quiet, reserved, kind and respectful man was, in fact, the eldest Uchiha. That he really was Itachi, the most loyal Konoha shinobi she’d ever heard of other than Naruto himself. Itachi, the man who sacrificed everything just so people like her could know peace a while longer.

And if she was wrong… well, Ino just knew her comrades would never let her hear the end of it.

~.~

To say Shikamaru was on edge would be an enormous understatement. Ino had been inside the captive’s mind for going on three hours, now, and it wasn’t looking like she was any closer to coming out than she was when she started. He’d focused on her the entire time he’d been crouched in the corner, hands clasped in front of him as he held the shadows binding the man in place. He worried about her every time they conducted an interrogation, it was true, and he didn’t think he’d ever stop worrying. The troublesome emotion was practically ingrained at that point after having been her teammate and one of her closest friends for so many years. 

But this time was different. This time, Shikamaru was uncertain. This time, it was three hours into the game and the genius had thousands of strategies, thousands of predicted outcomes… and that was the problem. He should have had them all narrowed down to _three_ by now. Five at the very most. But there were too many unknown variables. He was having trouble just keeping track of them all. 

The worst outcome he could think of was the overwhelming - if a bit irrational - fear that he would leave that room without the annoying blond at his side. He dreaded having to face an angry, grief stricken Kunoichi and tell her why her wife wasn’t coming home. He dreaded facing a life minus one friend he couldn’t live without. He dreaded making Choji cry.

So Shikamaru watched her. His eyes did not stray. They hardly blinked. He watched, and he observed, and he waited. He counted every second that went by, held his breath every time anyone moved, and he held his shadows together until he couldn’t hold them anymore. He switched places with another ANBU - a Nara whose name he couldn’t bother to think of, so focused on keeping Ino safe as he was, and settled against the wall to watch and wait some more.

When suddenly her brows pulled together in a frown and her teeth clenched, he stood up straight, hand unconsciously hovering over his weapons pouch. Itsuki had stood up straight as well in his spot across the room, flexing his fingers as if ready to jump in at any moment, though he looked significantly more relaxed than Shikamaru felt. 

The older man caught his eye and sent a dismissive wave of his hand. “She's fine,” he whispered, voice carrying to Shikamaru easily in the silent echoing room. “Sometimes memories are intense enough to affect us on the outside. If she was in trouble, we'd know.”

“How?” the Nara asked.

Itsuki frowned, turning his gaze back to his cousin. “She'll scream.”

The three hour mark came and went, and they were alarmed again quite a few times by Ino’s physical reactions to whatever she was seeing. There was one time when her mouth had opened in a silent cry, hands tightening around the captive’s head as tears streamed down her horrified face. Even The face man she held on to so tightly looked to be in pain. The intense reaction had sent Shikamaru flying forward, only to be restrained by the ANBU in the Kestrel mask.

“She's screaming!” he'd shouted, struggling against him. “Something’s wrong, get her out!”

“It wasn't a scream, she isn't struggling,” Itsuki hurried to assure him, though he, too, looked distraught. “They must have entered some especially painful memories, is all. Ino’s strong, Shikamaru. She'll be okay.”

“If you can't remain impartial, Nara-san,” Ibiki spoke up in a warning tone, “then you'll have to be removed. Stand down, that's an order.”

One last look over, just to make sure Ino really was alright, before Shikamaru finally relented. He had to bite back a few scathing words of his own directed at the man, as getting into a fight with his superior - not to mention the master of _torture_ himself - just sounded like a lot of unnecessary hassle. Besides, his father had always told him it was unwise to engage with the less intelligent just because he knew he would win. People tended not to like being shown up by someone younger than them, and the ones with a few screws loose were quite unpredictable when angered.

Letting his shoulders sag, the Nara brushed the ANBU boy - a Hyuuga, by the feel of his chakra - off, and moved to stand by Itsuki. He should really stop letting his fiance wake him up at ungodly hours of the morning. Just because _she_ was a morning person didn’t mean that _he_ had to be. The lack of sleep was really messing with his mood.

It was just reaching the five hour mark when Shinya (damn, he’d forgotten the Aburame boy was even there) pointed out the subtle signs that Ino was beginning to withdraw. The muscles in her arms loosened noticeably, the intense expression on her face smoothing out into something akin to an exhausted calmness. Her chest expanded as she took in a deep breath, then let it go, withdrawing her hands from the captive’s temple and opening her eyes.

“You can release him now,” she said quietly, looking as if she was barely able to stand on her own for much longer, though her eyes held a hard glint that was at once familiar to Shikamaru, Itsuki, and Shinya. At the sound of her commanding voice, the ANBU Nara’s shadows disappeared and the chakra beetles retreated back into the sleeves of Shinya’s coat. 

Ibiki stepped forward a bit closer, eyeing the still unconscious man in the stone chair with a look somewhere between wariness and superiority. “Did you find what you were looking for, Yamanaka-san?”

“Yes,” she responded without turning to look at him. Her eyes were focused firmly in front of her.

“Does that mean he really is Itachi Uchiha?” Itsuki asked, eyes widened in awe, though he also looked ready to collapse on the spot.

A small nod was his only answer, but a small nod was all it took for all the shinobi in the room to release a collective breath. The tension in the air slowly drained away, leaving a light hum of excitement in its wake. Of course, there were now far more questions that didn’t have answers than before, but they’d deal with them later.

It was at that point that the man whose mind Ino had been traversing for the past five hours began to stir, brows knit together in a look of barely suppressed pain. Without the restraints and the kunoichi’s steady hands, there was nothing holding the Uchiha in place, and he swayed precariously before tipping forward. Ino shot forward and caught him, her arms winding around him and across his shoulders as she used all her remaining strength to hold him up. 

“H-hey, Shika, a little help would be nice right about now,” she grunted, eyes pinning her friend from over Itachi’s shoulder. “Stop gawking and get your lazy ass over here. Do I have to do everything around here?”

_Yup, she’s fine_ , Shikamaru thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he stepped up to help, the last of his concern melting away. He took one of the Uchiha’s arms from Ino and slung it across his shoulders, taking half the weight. The Nara huffed as he stood up a bit straighter, muscles tensing with the effort. You’d think being dead for two to three years would shave off a little weight here and there, but apparently, this was not the case.

"He'll likely be out for the next couple of hours, at least."

“Alright, where to?” He asked Ino, who looked as if she were feeling a bit better now that she had help. 

“We should get him to a hospital bed first thing,” she said, looking over their charge’s pained face with concern. “I was in his head for longer than I thought I was going to be. I may need to heal any damage I might have caused.”

“We going through the Classified Personnel entrance?”

Ino gave him a look which clearly said ‘ _no shit_ ’ and didn’t respond. Shikamaru took that as his answer.

“Are you absolutely certain this man is the Uchiha?” Ibiki asked, still skeptical. “Perhaps additional measures should -”

“You so much as lay a finger on this man,” Ino hissed, eyes blazing, “then so help me, Ibiki, I will scramble your mind so badly there’ll be nothing left to distinguish you from a vegetable. I suggest you back off. Understand?”

As Ino’s threat sunk in, the room went suddenly and completely silent, the earlier lightness fading away as if it had never been. Itsuki and Shikamaru froze completely upon hearing them, staring at Ino in astonishment. They’d known she had a temper, but neither of them had thought she was bold enough to direct it at Ibiki. Whether they should commend her for bravery or scold her for stupidity, neither was completely sure.

But if the blond’s outburst hadn’t surprised everyone enough, then what Ibiki did next surely did. He gave her a long, hard stare, then slowly… nodded his head and stepped back. They seemed to come to a non-verbal understanding, as Ino nodded to him as well, looked away, and moved to exit the room as if she hadn’t just threatened the master of torture and gotten away with it.

“You scare me sometimes, you know, Ino-sama?” Itsuki whispered as he followed them out, closing the door softly behind him.

Ino smirked in response. “I know.”

Back in the interrogation room, the boy in the kestrel mask was trying very hard to stifle his laughter, and wasn’t succeeding.

Ibiki pinned him with an ice cold stare. “Something _funny_ , Hyuuga?”

“Nothing, sir, it’s just…” he stifled another chuckle. “You just let yourself get intimidated by a girl not even half your age.” 

Ibiki’s eyebrow began to twitch in irritation as he closed his eyes and folded his arms defensively across his chest. “Life Lesson Number One, boy,” he said curtly. “Never piss off a kunoichi who can turn you into a mewling kit for the rest of your life in less than a minute. Remember that, and you might just live long enough for me to make a decent ANBU Agent out of you.” 

The boy swallowed his laughter thickly and stood up straight. “Y-yes, sir! Understood, sir!” 

“Good.” 


	6. 6. Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They love each other... even when they absolutely hate each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry this update is a few days late, guys. A lot of nasty shit went down in my family on top of SAT's and homework and school and work hours picking up... I just couldn't focus enough to get this out in time. I sincerely apologize and will strive to do better. Updates in the future of this nature will appear on my Tumblr.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter include shameless filler scenes because life happens, not-so-subtle hints of gayness galore, and violence in which the unfortunate victims are walls and doors and Tsunade's sanity.
> 
> Tumblr username: thoroughly-inktroverted

_"A strong marriage requires two people who choose to love each other, even on those days when they struggle to like each other."  
\- Dave Willis._

~.~

Sakura stalked down the twisting white and mint green halls of the hospital, muttering under her breath as she went over the patient charts in her hands. The Kunoichi was in a considerably foul mood that afternoon, though she'd never admit it. Her chakra churned and lashed out in invisible angry bursts with every step, causing every nurse who passed her - civilian and shinobi alike - to give her scared looks and a wide berth. The smile she'd plastered on her face for the patients had seemed to frighten more than comfort them.

What could she say? Sakura wasn't very good at keeping a lid on her emotions. Especially when she was _pissed._

She rounded another corner, looked up, and paused. A dark shadow settled over her face.

Down at the far end of the hall, Ino softly closed the hospital room door behind her and leaned against it with an exhausted sigh. Slowly, she allowed her body to slide down towards the floor, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She'd just sit for a minute. Just one minute. Then she'd go home to-

The blond's eyes shot open so fast the sudden burst of fluorescent hallway lighting made her dizzy. " _Shit_!"

"Oh, _Piggy_ …" Sakura's voice sang almost pleasantly as she slowly began making her way down the hall, making Ino's blood freeze on the spot.

"Forehead," she squeaked, eyes wide as she shrunk back against the door.

Each step the green eyed Kunoichi took echoed in Ino's ears, the sickly sweet smile on her face sending cold shivers of anticipation down her spine.

Sakura's fist began to glow green. "You never came home last night, dear," she said, voice dripping with honey. Ino was sure that honey was laced with poison.

"Look, darling, I was given a mission last minute and-" Ino started frantically, only to cut off with a shriek as her wife's hand went through a wall, smile slipping into a fierce snarl.

"It was _Date Night_ ," she hissed.

The family member of the patient whose room the irate woman had just added an additional window to had poked his head out to yell at her, but froze upon hearing those words and seeing the look on her face as she made her way dangerously towards the cowering blond. Face going pale, he mouthed the words ' _you're dead_ ' to Ino before retreating back into the room as if his life depended on it. It probably did.

"N-now, honey, let's not do anything… _rash_ ," Ino said hurriedly as deadly green eyes loomed ever closer.

_Damn, she's hot when she's angry_ , one part of her mind mused, while the other, larger portion was screaming, _She's gonna_ kill _you, you moron! Get your sexy gay ass the hell out of dodge!_

"This is the third Date Night in a row that you've missed, _sweety_ ," Sakura said, not even trying to hide the malice in her voice anymore. "So what's your excuse _this time_ , hm?"

Ino tried and failed to speak, staring in muted awe at the raw power her wife exhibited. She knew Sakura would not _actually_ hurt her - at least, not yet. The two worked together in the way cats did; frustratingly independent and of a set mind, finding it hard to get along with others either too similar or too different from themselves - of which, to each other, Ino and Sakura were _both_. But it was in these similarities that they found a strange sort of mirror balance. It was mutually agreed that when words did not work, they'd find a training ground and hash it out not as spouses, but as kunoichi.

However, Ino had the bad habit of losing these hyper emotional sparring matches, hence the dread of facing one in the future. Which why all of the Konoha Eleven's bets were placed on Sakura's victory instead of the blond's... Though, she supposed, fear did benefit her in the long run, as she now did everything she could to work issues out verbally _before_ they escalated to that point.

No, the system was not perfect. Some would even call it barbaric. But it worked, and that was all that mattered. At the end of the day, the women still loved each other.

Ino was broken from her thoughts by the alarming sight of a glowing green fist hurtling towards her face. Gasping in protest, she lurched to the left, narrowly dodging the appendage in time as it brushed past her ear and punched a hole the size of her head through Itachi's hospital room door. Ino was suddenly greatful the man's unconscious state was medically induced, so the commotion would not wake him.

She turned to stare at the hole, then slowly raised her gaze up to the kunoichi responsible, who was standing in front of her with her fists balled tightly at her sides, breathing heavily. The clipboard she'd been carrying lay several feet behind her in fragments, likely crushed by her hand just before she'd lunged.

Ino looked at the hole again, noting how small it was, then smiled lovingly up at Sakura. "Aww, my flower held back for me!" she cooed.

"Shut up, Pig, I'm still mad at you," Sakura snapped, but the light dusting of pink across her cheeks was undeniable. "Now answer the question. What's your excuse?"

Ino cringed. She hated having to lie, but confidentiality was absolute, especially when the classified missions tied in with the medical field. _Speaking of which…_ Ino slowly slid in front of the hole in the door, blocking all view into the room, and hoped her wife wouldn't ask.

"Well, it's just I had a really late shift at the hospital last night and I didn't get done until just recently, so…" She trailed off, holding her hands up and shrugging her shoulders in a ' _what can you do?_ ' gesture. It wasn't a completely unbelievable lie. They were fighting right in the middle of the hospital, after all.

"Uhuh," the green eyed woman said, crossing her arms as she gave her wife a completely disbelieving look. "Except that's what you said the last Date Night, and I found you in a bar with Kiba and Tenten not half an hour later. I'm not buying it."

Another cringe from Ino. "Darling, you _know_ I hate making food pills with you. We've already resolved that issue."

" _Honey_ ," Sakura said, using the term of endearment mockingly, "it was _my turn_ to pick the date, and you _ditched_. Of course I'm still mad."

"Making _food pills_ is not a date!"

"It's completely romantic when it's cookies, or any other type of food!" the pink haired kunoichi defended, eyes narrowed. "My food pills aren't any different!"

Ino's submission disappeared in an instant. This was an argument they'd been holding for several years, now, and not one she was about to budge on any time soon.

"Bullshit," Ino snarled back, resisting the urge to leap to her feat so as not to leave the hole exposed. "A scavenger wouldn't touch those things if it was _starving to death_. The smell of them baking alone would probably kill it!"

Before she even had time to blink, Sakura's pale hand shot out and grasped the collar of her violet top, yanking her forward until their noses were almost touching. Her other hand was beginning to take on a green hue once more. "Why, _I outta-_ "

"That'll be enough, now, Sakura-chan," Tsunade's voice echoed from the end of the hall as she made her way towards the bickering couple. "Save the domestic disputes for the training grounds. You're being disruptive."

It was true. All up and down the long white and green hallway, several people had opened their doors and stuck their heads out curiously, hoping to see what the fuss was about. A young civilian nurse had ducked into one of the doorways, watching the two Kunoichi warily as she looked for an opening to make a hasty retreat. As the green eyed woman released her wife and stood up straight, the chakra fading away from her fist, it was as if the area itself let loose one collective sigh of relief.

The Hokage stopped at the hole Sakura had put in the wall, narrowing her eyes as she watched a chunk of plaster crumble and fall, then gritted her teeth, facing forward again. "You're paying for that," she said sternly.

Sakura's brows furrowed, jaw tensing defiantly, but she gave her former teacher a curt nod. "Yes, Tsunade-sensei."

Tsunade came to a stop beside them, crossing her arms as she gave the situation a disapproving look. "This is the third wall you've punched a hole in, Sakura. And not the first time your fights have disrupted the flow of the hospital. There are people here who are trying to rest and recover, and your childish squabbles are not only dangerous, but extremely detrimental to the fragile states of the patients and their healing process." the Hokage's eyes narrowed further. "This is not the first time I've had to scold you two. Get ahold of yourselves, or there _will_ be harsher consequences."

"Yes, Hokage-sama," the two chastised women said in unison, heads bowed.

Tsunade nodded approvingly. "Good." She glanced down at Ino, who was still sitting on the floor, covering the hole in the door. "Ino, you can stand up now, you know."

Ino swallowed nervously and shook her head. "No, I'm… I'm fine where I am, Tsunade-sama, thank you."

Tsunade's soft brown eyes had never looked so intimidating, Ino was certain. The Hokage stared down at her for a long time. Studying. Assessing. Finally, she looked up and down the hall, seemed to come to a conclusion of some sort, and sighed. "Go ahead and tell Sakura, Ino. The news'll be out soon enough, anyway, and at least my student is trustworthy. I assume you found what you were looking for?"

The blond allowed her shoulders to relax for the first time in the last several hours, letting out a relieved breath. Ignoring the curious look her wife was giving her, she nodded. "Yes, Tsunade-sama. All is in order." She winced, as if to banish a particularly bad thought, and closed her eyes tightly. "I'm gonna need therapy after this, I hope you know."

Tsunade sighed, shoulders slumping tiredly. "I'll arrange it."

"And I want to be kept on his case," Ino added firmly. "At least until he's feeling better and things have settled down a bit."

"... Fine. You know the most about him at this point anyway," the older woman conceded, if rather reluctantly.

"... Okay, I'm lost," Sakura said, gaze flicking back and forth between her teacher and her wife, a deep frown conveying her confusion. "Would someone please tell me what's going on? Who is this man you are referring to? Ino, why won't you get off the floor?" Her frown morphed into a suspicious scowl. "You're not turning straight, are you? Because I swear to the Kami forsaken _moon and back_ -"

"What?!" Ino exclaimed indignantly, recoiling as if she found her spouse's words to be particularly repulsive. "Why would I _ever_ -"

"Ladies, that is enough!"

It was fascinating, really, how often in a single day Ino and Sakura could make the Hokage look as if she wanted to put her head through a wall. Or theirs, depending on her mood.

"Yes, Tsunade-sama," the grumbled in unison. Ino resisted the urge to give the older woman a mocking salute.

Tsunade closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, muttering something which sounded suspiciously like the numbers one through ten. Then, in a quieter, significantly calmer voice, she said, "Ino was on a high ranking, highly secret, highly classified mission given to her by myself having to do with a series of recent events involving a man who, until now, was confirmed dead. I am sorry if the short notice and secrecy of the assignment put strain on your bond, but it was necessary, and Ino was the best person for the job."

"Okay…" Sakura said warily, the tension in her frame still very much present, though she sent a quick apologetic glance in the blond's direction. "And… who is this person, Tsunade-sama?"

Tsunade's fingers flexed as if searching for a bottle of sake before she answered. "The man I am referring to is Sasuke's older brother, Itachi Uchiha."

A few seconds of silence went by where it looked as if Sakura hadn't fully absorbed her teacher's words. Then, one by one, a multitude of emotions flickered across her face. Disbelief, denial, surprise, shock, dumbfoundment and frustration, to name a few. Slowly, the full situation dawned on her, and the other two watched as the color drained from her face.

"Wh…" she croaked, then swallowed, cleared her throat, and tried again. "Where is he now?"

Ino gave her wife a sarcastic, slightly amused look. "Lying unconscious behind the door you put your fist through not ten minutes ago. Really, dear, you simply _must_ control that temper. You never know which door could belong to your dear friend and past crush's legendary older brother."

Sakura seemed to wither on the spot. "... _Fuck_."


	7. 7. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the truth set him free in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I am sooooo sorry for the ridiculously long wait, guys! Shitty life is shitty, and this time, it decided to ambush me and make my life hell for a couple of weeks. I'm getting back into it, though you should probably expect a new chapter once every two weeks from now on until I get everything back under control. It's just not the best time for me to try to commit to a weekly schedule right now. I hope you can understand.
> 
> Anywho, however late it may be, I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter, guys! I made it a little longer as an apology of sorts. Please don't hate me!

_“I never did give them hell. I just told the truth, and they thought it was hell.”  
\- Harry S. Truman._

~.~

Itachi didn't think waking up would ever feel quite the same as it had before his death. With his consciousness rose a strange feeling somewhat akin to desperation, though for what, he could not be sure. The first few breaths after becoming aware of his mind and his limbs blurred together, each one bleeding into the next, and unlike his awakening in the forest outside the village, there was a sort of peaceful tranquility about his current state that hadn't been there before.

His soul, however, seemed not to acknowledge his physical comfort, clawing away from the darkness with such ferocity that it threw him violently from his drifting daze. Itachi went immediately into a state of high alert, muscles tensing and eyes flying open, gasping. At first all he saw was blinding white, but while it stung his eyes initially, he found he could not bring himself to close them again. The light, however much it hurt, was better than the darkness he so feared.

_Perhaps_ , he thought fleetingly, _this is yet another side effect of death._

Taking in another long, deep breath through his nose in the attempt to calm his racing heart, the young man struggled to sit up, limbs still not quite awake and pain hammering away against the inside of his skull. The Yamanaka girl had been quite thorough. Itachi doubted the pain in his sensitive mind would be going away anytime soon.

The blinding brightness, the source of it having only been the window beside the bed, faded back to a soft glow, leaving his vision unobstructed. The Uchiha’s dark eyes flicked from right to left in quick succession, taking in the features of the room, noting the white walls and clean sheets, the clipboard hanging beside the door, and the bitter tang of sterilization in the air. _The hospital_ , he concluded, letting out a small breath and forcing his tensed muscles to relax. 

From the slightly rusted tinge to the light filtering in through the window, Itachi estimated the time to be somewhere between six and eight in the evening, and he wondered just how long he’d been unconscious. The last thing he remembered being aware of was Ino’s hands leaving his face and the intense relief following her Chakra’s withdrawal from his brain.

The silence of the room settled deep beneath his skin in a way Itachi had long since grown intimately familiar, it's extra weight crashing down on his body like the waves of a troubled sea. He was indeed young - only twenty-one, if one didn't take into account the years he’d been dead - but in that moment, he felt as if he’d lived lifetimes. He felt each year in the groaning of his bones. Heard them in the lonely echoes of his tired mind. Felt them in the worn out beating of his weary heart. He was only twenty-one, but Itachi had never felt so old as he did sitting in that hospital room, nestled in the heart of the village he thought he'd never see again.

He wondered how Ino was doing after seeing the things he’d shown her. Things no one, shinobi or no, should ever have to see. He hoped she got the help she needed to work through it all. She had been kind to him… she didn’t deserve a broken mind for her trouble. Gods only knew Itachi had broken enough innocent people to last a hundred lifetimes over.

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his thoughts, bringing his attention to the green-clad form of the fifth Hokage. Tsunade let it close softly behind her as she stepped up to the foot of the bed, arms crossed and brows furrowed together in heavy thought as she studied him. Itachi met her gaze calmly, waiting. For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Finally, slowly, the older woman relaxed, letting her hands fall to rest on the bed frame.

Itachi lifted a brow. “Have you finished your examination?”

The corners of her mouth tightened, but beyond that, his dry sarcasm was ignored. “Itachi Uchiha,” She said, tone low and serious, but no longer lending any doubt to his name. “Your name has been cleared completely of any wrongdoing since your death. The members of the council responsible for the mission which resulted in your clan’s elimination have been removed from power, and you are widely regarded as a hero to the village.” Tsunade paused, eyes softening. “Things are quite different from what you remember, young Shinobi, and I can’t promise you life won’t be difficult.” she said quietly.

Itachi let his gaze drop to his hands fisted in the sheets, pushing back the pounding of his heart. “I can handle it,” he said simply.

Tsunade nodded. “I’m sure you can. Acclimating to village life will be hard, and while I wish I could say your reception will be well handled… The simple fact of the matter is that, in the end, you _were_ the one who killed your family. There will be some who hold that against you, no matter the circumstances. I can try my best to shield you from it, if you wish, but I cannot make it go away.”

Itachi’s hands clenched the sheets a bit tighter at the blunt mention of the massacre, even as he silently praised the woman for her straightforwardness. “I understand.”

“Now there is just the matter of your career,” Tsunade continued. “I’m not going to lie, Uchiha-san, you would be an incredible asset to Konoha if you were reinstated as one of our shinobi. Your strength is as yet unparalleled, and you have more than proved yourself to be intelligent, responsible, and loyal to a fault.” For the first time since entering the room, the Hokage looked away from him, chewing her bottom lip absently. “But the choice is yours. You will not be required to remain a Konoha Shinobi if you don’t want to. After everything, you deserve the choice to stay or leave it all behind, and if ever you change your mind, there will always be a place for you.”

Itachi inclined his head gratefully. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

“It’s the least we owe you,” she whispered so quietly that the tone was breathy and light.

Itachi remained silent.

Tsunade cleared her throat. “Now that you've heard the spiel, there are a few other things to do before I release you. Our records say you have an extensive history with a deadly lung disease. Do you mind if I have a look?”

She was already moving before Itachi could respond, shoulders set decisively and doe-brown eyes firm, no doubt the medic in her showing through. Itachi forced himself to remain relaxed under her touch, watching as she laid one hand on his shoulder and the other on his chest, right beneath his collar bone. As he watched the mint green glow of healing chakra spring to life from her fingers, he tried to remember the last time someone had touched him so familiarly, but shut down the line of thought before it could lead to anything painful.

He took in breaths when instructed, following the cool path of energy as it seeped below the skin, through veins and muscle, and into the delicate layers of his lungs. It was a refreshing feeling, like ice on a hot summer day, and Itachi allowed himself to succumb to the soothing sensation. He knew the Hokage wouldn't find anything. He hadn't felt the burn of tearing lung tissue or the bitter taste of blood since his death. He was now able to breathe easy for the first time in years.

Satisfied with her results, Tsunade allowed the Chakra to recede and fade away, removing her hands and standing up straight. His reward for calm cooperation was a small smile. “Whatever was here before is gone now. You're a clean bill of health. I will ask you to remain here for awhile longer, though. Ino wants to see you before you leave.”

Itachi closed his eyes and nodded, trying his best to sit up a little straighter. “Thank you, Hokage-sama. Ino may see me whenever is convenient for her.”

“She's waiting now. I'll send her in.” Tsunade made her way to the door, but paused before opening it, her hand resting on the handle. Without turning, she said, “Sasuke’s not in the village right now. To be honest, no one really knows where he is. He comes and he goes. He calls it his “Journey of Redemption”. But… I'm sure he would stay if he knew you were here.”

Itachi frowned as Tsunade left. _Journey of Redemption_? He’d known, of course, that his brother’s hands weren't exactly clean. That he'd tried to kill his teammates and his best friend, and that he'd spent most of his life wanting to kill him, and that he'd wanted to destroy the leaf village. Not to mention whatever unspeakable acts Orochimaru had put him up to. But, as far as he could tell from Tsunade’s admittance, Sasuke’s absence wasn't what the woman wanted. And he was willing to bet his teammates and friends didn't want it, either. It was just detrimental for his little brother to continue to isolate himself needlessly.

_There are many things we need to discuss, dear brother_. The difference now was that he actually had the time to do so. It was a strange feeling… having _time_.

“Hey,” Ino said quietly and she stepped into the room, giving the hole in the door a wince as she closed it behind her. She came forward and sat down hesitantly and the edge of the hospital bed, pale blue eyes regarding him with a level of concern Itachi still wasn't entirely comfortable with. “Your head feeling any better?”

The Uchiha tried his best not to tense at the blonde’s relatively close proximity, though she remained a respectful distance away and kept her hands placed firmly on her knees and in his sight at all times. This likely wasn't the first time she had dealt with powerful, potentially dangerous Kage level shinobi with possible mental issues, PTSD, a history of excessive violence, and personal space issues. He wondered how many times the young woman had ventured blindly into the minds of unstable rogues, not knowing whether or not she would ever come back again, and felt his previous respect for her solidify into something more permanent.

“I can't say I've ever been on the receiving end of a Yamanaka interrogation jutsu before,” he replied sincerely, allowing his expression to loosen into something a little less statuesque. “The experience wasn't pleasant. But you know that, don't you?”

Ino averted her gaze and nodded slowly. “Yes. I was eight when my father used it on me. It took me _way_ longer to recover than you, I'll admit. But it was necessary.”

Itachi gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment. “I was three when my father first used the Sharingan on me.”

Ino turned her wide, horrified eyes on him. “Really? So _young_?”

It was his turn to nod slowly, gaze drifting to watch the last rays of light filtering through the window slowly dim. “He, too, assured me it was necessary. It wasn't until I grew older that I began to question him.”

“When was Sasuke exposed?” Ino asked before she could stop herself, visibly flinching back against her words, even though it was too late to stop them.

Itachi didn't hesitate before replying, “The night I killed our parents,” in a far more subdued tone than he had previously been using. He figured there was no use hiding his thoughts or feelings from the woman. She was already more intimately familiar with his mind and his past than anyone else in the world. If that thought scared him more than a little bit… well, you'd never hear him say it.

Ino drew in one long, deep breath, then sighed, sinking further down onto the mattress until her spine was nearly touching his knee. A familiar heaviness had descended upon her smaller frame, a near mirror image of his own. “That was hell,” she whispered.

“The truth rarely isn’t.”

“I know.” Ino turned her head to look at him, eyes boring into his helplessly, as if searching for the answer to a question he had never heard. “I tried spending an hour with a therapist today before coming to see you. It was nothing new, really, I see him after every interrogation I conduct, but… this time, there was nothing I could say. I knew that no matter how I worded it or what feelings I tried to convey, he wouldn't ever completely understand.” She laughed dryly, rubbing her eyes tiredly in a manifestation of something far deeper than physical exhaustion. “Your mind is seriously fucked up, you know that?”

“Obviously.” He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards in a wry half-smile. “So, what are you going to do?”

Ino straightened, a look of burning determination washing away her defeat as a genuine smile tugged at her lips. She jabbed a thumb at her chest. “I'm gonna be your gay best friend.”

Itachi had been told a lot of things in his life. Not once did he ever remember being told _that_. He also couldn’t remember the last time something someone said had rendered him speechless. Combine the two together, and, well, there was a first time for everything, he supposed.

Ino stared at his face for a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, man…” she said breathlessly, wiping tears from her eyes as the Uchiha stared at her with poorly concealed shock. “The reactions I get to the ‘guess what, I’m gay!’ thing never gets old.”

“It’s not that,” Itachi said carefully, mind still reeling. “It’s just… why would being my best friend help you at all? It seems to me like that would only make the situation worse.”

Ino gathered herself back under control, taking several deep breaths before answering in a calm voice. “Yeah, well, it seems to _me_ that being your friend would do exactly the opposite.” Her pale blue eyes were piercing. “Look, Itachi, we’ve both got issues. There’s no denying that fact. And now, thanks to that interrogation, we’ve both got issues that no one else can even begin to understand, let alone help us with. You may be a hero, but beyond that, you have no one in this village until Sasuke shows up, and gods only know when _that_ will be. You need a friend, and I need someone with whom I can work out these issues.” 

Okay… that made sense. Maybe.

“Besides,” she said, her tone taking on a sarcastic note. “Having a gay best friend is all the rage nowadays, apparently. You should be honored, Uchiha-san.”

Itachi blinked once, then again, as if doing so would help him to understand the situation better. “I’m… not sure what to say.”

Ino held out her hand, hopeful. “Just say yes,” she said quietly, and waited.

Itachi stared at her hand for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He wouldn’t lie, the sudden proposal of friendship took him off guard. He was a bit unnerved by it, but the more he thought about it, the more it began to make sense. Ino now knew him better than most people knew the people they had been friends with for years. She shared his pain. She had been kind to him without needing to be, and the prospect of facing the dramatic change that was re-familiarizing himself with village life alone was daunting at best. He didn’t exactly _need_ a friend, but… having one would not be entirely unwelcome.

Just as Ino’s hopeful expression began to falter and her courage wavered, Itachi came to his conclusion. Without another moment’s hesitation, he reached out and firmly grasped her hand, his obsidian eyes sharp and decisive.

“I would be honored to have you as my friend,” he said, and that was the truth.

Ino smiled brightly and gripped his large hand tighter. “I’m glad,” she said, and that was the truth, too.


	8. 8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His body went home, but his heart never left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late. Again. Life gets pretty hectic for me at the end of the school year when all the teachers are freaking out and piling work on us like there's no tomorrow. Hope you guys like it all the same.
> 
> Also, I should probably let you guys know that I'll only be answering comments or questions on my Tumblr. So if you want a response, direct it there. My username is thoroughly-inktroverted.

_“Some sappy quote about homes and hearts and shit.”  
\- My Poor, Abused, Sleep Deprived Brain._

~.~

“Tell me something happy,” Ino said, settling into her spot beside Itachi on the edge of the hospital bed with an ease which was absent before.

Itachi gave her a dry look. “I'm Itachi Uchiha,” he said simply, as if that was all the answer she needed.

Ino rolled her eyes. “Oh, c’mon. Everyone has happy memories. Even you.”

The young man was silent for a moment, features smoothing into a look of calm contemplation as he leaned back into the pillows. He still gripped her hand. She gripped back. Neither mentioned it.

“Once…” he started, then paused and backtracked. “A long time ago, there was a day when everything seemed alright for a moment. I think I was twelve. I woke up late. There were no missions, Sasuke didn't have school, mother and father were both home…” he sighed and closed his eyes. “Back when I still thought everything was going to be okay. Shisui stopped by with his mother’s fresh Onigiri, and we sat at the table and told Sasuke stories about his infancy we had never told before, just to see how red he could turn. Father smiled at me and never mentioned the clan’s issues, and mother let me fall asleep on her lap while she braided my hair.”

Ino smiled softly. “That sounds like heaven.”

Itachi nodded. “It was one of the rare moments when I felt most at peace.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head towards, a note of expectancy in his silence.

“I think the oldest happy memory I can think of is from when I was a toddler,” Ino said, blue eyes trained on the hole in the door across the room, though she appeared to be looking beyond it. “My father took me to visit my mother in the flower shop. Dad made a crown of daisies and talked about how all the different flowers represent different aspects of our minds. Mom argued that they more closely resembled the heart. I was too young to care, of course, I just liked the pretty colors.”

“Sounds like you.”

“Hey! You hardly know me, don't you dare assume what I'm like!” Ino exclaimed, making a show of appearing affronted, even though she was laughing. “Even if it _is_ true.”

“You're the one who decided you needed to be my best friend less than twenty-four hours after meeting me. After _interrogating_ me, no less,” Itachi replied coolly with one mildly sardonic brow raised.

“Yes, well, _that_ decision was based on extenuating circumstances, more than just assumption,” Ino huffed. “Besides, _you_ accepted, and you hardly know anything about me. What does that say of you, oh mighty Uchiha?”

Itachi dipped his head. “The man who walks alone would get farther with someone to lean on.”

The blond blinked owlishly up at him. “... That was deep,” she stated obviously after a moment.

Itachi just hummed an agreement.

With a glance toward the darkness peeking through the window, Ino stifled a heavy yawn, pushing herself reluctantly off the edge of the mattress. She gave the hand she still held a gentle tug. “C’mon,” she coaxed. “Let’s get you checked out and away from this sanitized hell. You and I both could use more sleep than we’ve gotten in the past day. Two days, in my case.”

Itachi’s eyes narrowed as the sudden urge to rip his hand away came unbidden. A part of him vehemently rejected the tone of her voice which made him feel like glass. Scathing words made their way to the very tip of his tongue, ready to set fire to the dangerous fondness in her eyes. His mind demanded he express offense.

Her fingers tightening ever so slightly around his was what drew him away from the edge of irreversible harm. It was not the soft touch of pity, nor was it one of ignorance. No matter which way he looked at it, the young clan leader’s body language - the unrepentant way in which he touched his skin - spoke of nothing less than respect.

Ino was not coddling him or being kind simply because of the circumstances. She was just being… _familiar_.

_How strange…_

Giving himself a mental push, Itachi let Ino pull him up, offering a small courteous nod in return. She grinned, but made no mention of his hesitation.

The coolness of the tiles beneath his feet sent a shiver of shock up his spine, forcefully reminding him that he hadn't been revived with shoes. He supposed he should count himself lucky he had come back with clothes at all. That could have been… embarrassing, to say the very least. The added extra vulnerability to his anxiety likely would have made the past day for more difficult than necessary.

“Why is there a hole in the door of a room in the Classified Wing, of all places?”

“I’ll… explain later.”

Upon leaving the hospital room, Ino finally released his hand, the cool air hitting his palm causing the lack of warmth to seem all the more prominent. And just like that, all of a sudden, it hit Itachi that this young woman he followed down the hall so obediently… This young woman, who had taken it upon herself to make sure he was alright - make sure he wasn't _alone_ … This young woman whom he vaguely remembered from years before, once a tiny child no taller than his hip… She was almost the exact same age as his little brother.

The age gap between them had been shortened by his death, but for the first time since waking, Itachi realized he had absolutely no idea what to expect when he finally saw Sasuke again. When he returned, Sasuke would no longer be the angry, lost, hurting child he had left behind. He would be completely different. He would be a man.

Itachi wasn't sure how he was going to handle that. He allowed himself to wonder for a moment what Sasuke would look like. Would he be tall, like their father? Would his hair be longer or shorter? Would his skin still look pale as porcelain, just as their mother’s had been? He tried to picture his little brother’s eyes, tried to imagine a lightness to them he remembered from before everything went wrong, tried to picture them brimming with happiness and contentment now that all was said and done. Itachi tried his best to build an image of an emotional, loving Sasuke with happy eyes, but all that came was pools of black filled with anguish and darkness.

_That Sasuke is gone_ , his mind whispered, heedless of the way it tore his heart. _You destroyed him._

Ino halted at a door at the end of the hall, plainer than the rest with a different colored wood, and turned to face him. “What's your shoe size?”

Itachi glanced down at his feet, then back up to her, lifting a slender brow questioningly. “Is this some strange fangirl fetish?” He asked, sarcasm practically dripping from his words.

Ino scoffed. “You're funny. Ha ha. I'm married to a woman, genius, now tell me your shoe size or I'll make you walk across the village without them. Trust me, late autumn is _not_ the season you want to be doing that shit.”

"You sound as if you speak from experience."

"I'll never tell."

“21.5cm," he said.

Ino huffed, impressed. “Wow, that's really small for a guy.”

“I know.”

“Does Sasuke have a smaller shoe size, too?” She asked, tipping her head curiously.

Itachi mirrored the action thoughtfully, his long hair shifting across his shoulders as he did so. “I am… uncertain. Sasuke certainly takes more after our father than I do, so his are likely large by Uchiha standards, but to you, they would still seem relatively small.”

“Oh, really? What about your mother? Or your aunts and uncles and cousins and -”

“Yes, Ino, it is genetic,” Itachi said, a hint of irritation leaking into his low tenor voice. “I think we should move on now, if you don't mind.”

Ino’s head tilted a little farther as she continued to peer curiously into his eyes. “Huh…” she breathed, as if reassessing everything she knew about the Uchiha clan based on the older man’s simple confession.

“ _Ino_.”

Ino blinked, refocusing on him once again. “Sorry. My mind has been… sluggish, recently,” she admitted, averting her gaze as she chewed her bottom lip. “I space out a lot more than I should since I started working with Interrogations. I'm afraid it'll get me in serious trouble someday. Maybe a week from now. Maybe tomorrow.”

Itachi nodded, shifting minutely from one foot to the other. “You're tired,” he said. “You've been on your feet for two days, you conducted an extremely exhaustive. You have little to no chakra left to keep you going, Interrogations is a mentally and emotionally taxing job, even for veteran shinobi, and you’re leading a clan on top of that. Don't seek yourself short. A strong shinobi isn't ashamed to admit their weaknesses.”

“Your weakness is Sasuke,” Ino blurted. “Isn't it?”

After a long pause, during which the blond woman began to feel guilty for having asked something so invasive, Itachi gave a nearly inaudible sigh and nodded. 

“Always has been,” he said, voice quiet with sincerity.

Ino took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay… okay.” Then confusion flashed on her face. “Wait, I knew that already…”

“You’re tired,” Itachi said bluntly, reaching out to touch her elbow lightly, gently coaxing her forward.

“Right, right. What was I… shoes!” She amended quickly, spinning around away from him and toward the closet door. “Late Autumn. Nighttime. Cold. You need shoes. Hold on a moment.” She disappeared into the closet, leaving Itachi to resist the urge to shake his head fondly.

In all fairness, his decision to accept the woman’s offer of friendship had been purely strategic - it was always good for a shinobi to have connections - but the more time the man spent in her presence, the more he felt himself falling into the old binds of emotion and connection he had gone so long without. He made the decision, then, not to fight it. Things were different now. With the passage of time came change, and to survive, he’d have to let himself follow. Besides, having the company of someone other than a mass murderer, despite how much he had come to miss Kisame, was a nice change of pace.

“Here we are,” Ino announced, stepping out of the closet with a pair of blue standard issue shinobi sandals. “Shinobi tend to go through shoes just about as much as they go through their kunai and shuriken, so we keep them on hand for when they show up without them, which is literally _every day_.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been on that end of shinobi life, either, before now,” Itachi said as he took the shoes from her, nodding gratefully.

“No lost shoes? Surely you aren’t human.”

“You would know.”

Ino smirked. “I do.”

~.~

Sakura looked up from her pile of clipboards as Ino and Itachi approached the front desk, feeling a tired smile tug at her lips at the sight of her wife despite their earlier dispute. At first, all she saw was the blond woman she had married, but as her eyes moved past her to the man trailing reservedly behind her, the pink haired Kunoichi felt her eyes widen and her smile falter. She hadn't seen the man Sasuke still grieved since their battle during Gaara’s retrieval mission. Now, many years later, she looked back on that day and realized with a heavy heart that the oldest Uchiha brother had shown them mercy. If he'd wanted it, they would have been dead long before his clone ran out of chakra.

Physically, he looked well. A bit on the shorter end, as far as men usually go, but his spine was straight and the way he carried himself spoke of a strength that wasn't just skin deep. Those eyes, however - dark and empty and endless - spoke of an age which far surpassed his body. It looked heavy. Sakura couldn't imagine trying to hold such a weight and have to carry it with her every second of the day. It would be painful, as if the very world rest on her shoulders.

“Checking out?” She asked as Ino reached the desk, resting her arms on the smooth oak top as the blond shot her a bright, brilliant smile.

“Yup,” Ino said, but something in her voice felt off.

“Ino,” Sakura said, leaning closer to peer into her eyes, which were rimmed with subtle purple and gray. “You _are_ going straight home, right? You look ready to pass out any minute.”

“Yeah, yeah, right after I walk with Itachi back to the compound,” Ino said, waving her off nonchalantly. 

Sakura’s eyes widened. “You adopted _Itachi Uchiha_?!” the green-eyed kunoichi whispered harshly. “Darling, we’ve talked about this. No more picking up strays from the hospital!”

“That was _one time_ ,” Ino whispered back defensively. “And Tenten became, like, your best friend, so you have no reason to complain!”

“This isn’t about Tenten. First it was that kitten someone left in the waiting room, then it was that Akimichi girl you helped out a while back, and oh, let’s not forget that time you forced Ibiki to come over for dinner because he “looked like he had no friends” - which, duh, it’s Ibiki. And now? Now, it’s Itachi _fucking_ Uchiha.” Sakura threw her hands up in exasperation. “I swear, if you bring home a kid next, I’m divorcing you!”

“No you won't, I’m the greatest thing that ever happened to you!”

Sakura reined in the insult threatening to fall from her lips. _It’s late_ , she reminded herself. _No need to go and say something I’ll likely regret later_.

“Okay, fine, you win,” she conceded. “But you are coming home with me, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

Ino opened her mouth to argue, but Itachi cut her off, tone quiet and reserved, yet undeniably commanding.

“Ino, _go home_. I know how to walk on my own.”

“But you -”

“Ino,” he tried again. “You were in my mind for a handful of hours. You forget that I've had nearly half of my life to learn how to live with myself and my past. One night alone is not going to change that.”

Finally, after searching his eyes for anything that may prove otherwise and finding nothing, Ino relented, shoulders sagging. “Oka…” she stifled a heavy yawn. “... Okay. But I'm coming by tomorrow to see how you're settling in.” She stepped around and behind the desk, bending down and reaching around Sakura for something underneath. Obsidian and emerald eyes watched, one pair curious, the other patient.

Ino came up again a moment later, holding a heavy white standard issue cloak folded in her arms. She came back around the desk and handed it to Itachi. “I’m not sure how much attention you’ll want right off the bat. It's late, though, and dark. If you keep the hood up, no one should recognize you. Plus it's cold. We don't need you dying from pneumonia when we just got you back.”

“Sasuke would kill us,” Sakura added, offering a small, wry smile. Something in her eyes said she was only half kidding.

Itachi took the cloak from Ino with a grateful nod, unfolding it and slinging it across his shoulders in one smooth move. “Thank you,” he said simply, turning to leave.

“My pleasure,” Ino said sincerely. “See you tomorrow.”

With another small nod, Itachi drew up the hood of the cloak and left, the quiet sound of the swinging door echoing in the empty halls. Ino stared after him for a moment, lips slowly stretching into a fond smile.

“I think he'll be alright,” she said.

Sakura snorted. “Of course he will. He's an Uchiha. They're the toughest people out there, aside from Naruto.

Ino’s eyes widened. “Shit!” She exclaimed. “We forgot to tell him about - !”

“He’ll figure it out,” Sakura assured her, laying her hand on hers on the desk. She gestured to her stack of paperwork, hardly touched. “Come on. These reports can wait. You look like you're gonna pass out any minute, and I refuse to carry you.”

Ino threaded their fingers together, gripping tightly back. “Love you, too.”

~.~

Tsunade stood at the large glass windows lining her office in the Hokage Tower, peering out over the night-shrouded village with sharp eyes. Beside her stood Kakashi, his gray hair turned silver in the light of the crescent moon. He shifted from one foot to the other, following her gaze as it zeroed in on a lone figure making their way through the empty streets below.

“Is that him?” He asked.

Tsunade nodded.

“Hm.” Kakashi watched the figure walk for a moment, tempted to use his Sharingan to see for himself the Uchiha prodigy come back from death. “Did you tell him?”

Tsunade smirked. “No.”

Kakashi turned his head towards her, eyebrow raised. “Did you at least tell Naruto?”

Her smirk grew wider. “Nope.”

Kakashi sighed. “You're going to give that poor boy a heart attack.”

Tsunade chuckled dryly. “Payback’s a bitch.”

~.~

Down in the streets, Itachi paused alone on a moonlit crossroad, dark eyes staring down the packed dirt road which lead to the Uchiha clan compound at the edge of the village. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft moonlight and the biting chill of the wind in the branches. Then, one step after another, he started forward. 

For the first time in many years, the young Uchiha allowed his feet to lead him home.


	9. 9. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brother begins a familiar journey. The other walks through shadow into light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all. This is super late, I know, and I'm sorry. It couldn't be helped. But it's here now, and that's what matters. 
> 
> In answer to a question I received on FF.net, yes, we are nine chapters in. No, Hinata has not been introduced yet. No, things are not progressing very quickly. Yes, this is taking forever.  
> Why?  
> Because while I acknowledge that fluffy lovey dovey romance is an amazing beautiful thing and the couple is so cute together and you're impatient and ladidadida, it is not the most important thing. It will become a major fixture later on, yes, but not now. Now is time for Itachi and I. We need to get our bearings and set the scenes and establish connections old and new. There's a lot of issues to sort through first.
> 
> And, of course, there's Sasuke.  
> Sasuke is the precious little brother.  
> Sasuke ALWAYS comes first.  
> No exceptions.  
> (Just a couple more chapters, guys, I promise.)
> 
> And now, without further ado, I give you... the chapter.

_“Time flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind.”  
\- Nathaniel Hawthorne._

~.~

Somewhere far away from Konoha, through deserts and across mountains, over field and fen and further, a young man paused on a moonlit crossroad. Soft silver light painted his raven hair gray and illuminated the deserted rice patties he now found himself surrounded by. The moon was bright that night. The man could cast his gaze across the rice for miles, his sharpened eyesight seeing things more clearly than most, even without the use of the bloodline lurking dormant in his dark eye.

One eye, ever watchful. The other, covered, it's difference hidden by long black bangs so that no one would see or know. The true extent of his power, he hid and suppressed, so no one would guess. He appeared ordinary, if a bit reserved and mysterious, taking his father’s name and never staying in one place for more than a day. That way, no one would know.

No one would suspect, see, guess... that the quiet traveler was really Sasuke Uchiha.

Sasuke pondered the choice laid out before him. One path led further into the endless rows of rice, nestled in their watery beds and swaying in the light nighttime breeze en masse, while the other he knew would eventually give way to dense emerald forest. On one side, the comforting prospect of quiet and tranquility and a hood to hide his face. On the other, whispers and stares and hate. A village of liars and thieves. The empty grave of the brother he killed. The brother they stole from him.

_And… him._

A smile like starlight to ignite the darkness. A brazen laugh to keep the voices at bay. A flash of gold in the sun, a breath like wind in his ear, and a loving touch for long and restless nights… A pair of sad blue eyes to carry with him when again the open road takes him. The heavy weight of their silent, undying promise.

And so the youngest Uchiha brother turned his feet to paths well known, with the color of brilliant gold held suspended in his mind, and the whisper of a familiar name on his lips. It had been too long since his last visit home. The comfort of the unknown would have to wait.

~.~

Shadows and whispers followed Itachi as he made his way slowly through the sprawl of empty streets and crumbling houses which made up what was left of the Uchiha district. His dark eyes, though dry, were clouded with pain and loss, his hands fisted in the folds of his cloak the only outward sign of his inner struggle. He could still feel the weight of the sword in his hand, long and balanced and deadly… could still hear the screams and pleading of his aunts, uncles, cousins and friends as he cut them down without a word.

Itachi could still feel the blood on his hands. Sometimes, he could still see it, red and thick and constricting. It just wouldn't go away. It would _never_ go away. Not even death had changed that.

He imagined the silence of that night was meant to be calming, serene and silver-tinged. He wished he could hear it. His mind refused him.

Memories continued to surface, clinging to his legs like a stubborn child, refusing to let go. They weighed him down until each step felt heavy and sluggish, each breath coming just a bit quicker than the last. Itachi had to remind himself of who he was, what _time_ he was in, _why_ he was there.

He remembered his mother, stiff and frightened, kneeling before him in the darkness. She had loved her son until her last breath, the boy she had raised with more love and care than Itachi could ever want for. He wondered if she had known he would one day become her killer. He wondered what she had felt, kneeling before him like that, voice thick as she and his father both asked him to take care of Sasuke.

_“You truly are a kind child.”_

Itachi had failed them. Their one last dying wish before he cut them down - take care of Sasuke. Take care of his precious little brother. Don’t let anything happen to him. He had failed so spectacularly at that. Even as he promised them… even as he ended their lives with that promise still fresh on his lips… he knew. He knew he was lying.

The young man’s feet came to a stumbling halt. With laboring breaths and a racing heart, he reached out a hand to steady himself against the wall of the nearest building, the other clutching desperately at his chest beneath his cloak. Disease had disappeared from his lungs, but in that moment he could almost believe it had returned with the way they had begun to ache.

“Damn it,” he hissed, squeezing his eyes shut. Seeking his only known comfort, he reached out to his chakra - just to feel it, just to know it was there - only to remember it was still locked away, the Hyuuga’s blockage of his chakra points having not yet worn off. Instead, he leaned further against the wall, willing his breaths to become deeper and his memories to fade and leave him in peace.

He had known beforehand that returning home after so long would have negative effects, which was why he’d been so adamant that Ino not accompany him. He couldn’t let anyone see him fall apart. Having a witness would have undoubtedly made it worse. Weaknesses were normal. They were what made everyone human. But Itachi was a private man, and letting someone in on too many of his own secrets and weaknesses very likely had rather adverse effects which he had no care to explore any time soon, even if that someone _did_ already know the most of it.

When his breathing had evened and his heartbeat slowed to a pace less likely to send him into cardiac arrest, Itachi sighed, leaning his forehead against the wall. He tried his best not to open his eyes and remember who had died there. 

_I’m such a mess_ , he thought bitterly. _Do I really want Sasuke to come home and see me like this?_

_It doesn’t matter_ , his mind supplied. _As long as I get to see him again. Nothing else matters. I need him. I need my little brother. The one person left for me to truly love unconditionally. Family is everything, and Sasuke… Sasuke’s all I have._

Stealing his resolve, the Uchiha opened his eyes, schooling his features into an outward calm he hoped would somehow soothe his inner turmoil, and i was only then that he noticed something. Something important. Something he hadn’t noticed before, but definitely _should have_.

Frowning, Itachi leaned back a bit, peering down at his hand on the wall. Then he looked away, casting his gaze around him, eyes narrowing to scan the buildings in the darkened street. Something had happened while he had let his focus wander. A change. A transition. No longer were the buildings around him brittle and toppled by weather and time. Instead, the stronger ones had been reinforced with new framework and support beams. Some looked as if they had been repainted, while others looked as if they had been rebuilt completely. In some areas further down the street, buildings had been completely cleared away, grass clearings and gardens growing in their place. All of it looked incredibly recent.

The Uchiha, at the height of their numbers, had been nearly two-hundred strong. Their lands were vast, their individual family groups large, and their district on its own was the size of a small village. By the time Itachi was born, their numbers had dwindled. By his fourth birthday, there were less than half remaining, most of them having perished in the Third Shinobi War. The rest was history.

He remembered chasing the younger children through the empty husks of abandoned houses, trying to round them up and get them home in time for dinner, his brother among them. He had finally managed to persuade Sasuke to stop after he had had to dig him out of an unstable building which had collapsed around him. Still, whenever Itachi looked back on his memories of home - the very few he could manage - he always remembered the empty spaces. The shells which used to be something… to _belong_ to someone.

Now, as red flags began raising alarms in his mind, he pushed away from the wall and began making his way down the center of the street. His dark eyes flitted rapidly between each shadow and the next, noting every difference, cataloguing everything that didn’t belong when compared to the picture in his head. The further down the road towards the center of the compound he came, the newer things looked, as if someone had started renovations at the heart and worked their way outward.

Finally, Itachi rounded the last corner and came face to face with his childhood home. It was times like this that the young man absolutely _hated_ having an eidetic memory. He could remember every single detail of how things used to be, from the places the floorboards creaked under the weight of each generation, to the way the rooftop glowed a distinct silver when the moon was in exactly the right place at _exactly_ three in the morning, right down to each individual grain in the wood of the winding porch. He remembered exactly how the shoji doors had slid open - slow and hesitant, gripped by tiny trembling fingers. He remembered _exactly_ the look in Sasuke’s eyes as he’d struggled to comprehend the intricate staining of their parents’ blood on the tatami floors.

Itachi hated having an eidetic memory.

Itachi hated remembering.

But there were more pressing matters at hand than the shock of seeing his childhood home. There was a soft yellow glow filtering through the cracks of the door and from behind the thin drawn curtains where he remembered the kitchen being. The light was too soft to be electric.

_A candle, then._

Itachi's eyes narrowed further, shoulders tensing as he stepped up to the door, avoiding the older boards with a silent practiced efficiency. Whoever was inside most likely wouldn't know he was there, what with his chakra being suppressed and the soundless way he moved. Slowly, he slid open the door and took a hesitant step inside. 

The shadows of the entryway held a warmer, softer look to them than the stark silver moonlight outside, bringing with it the faint sound of Sasuke’s laughter and the memory of the smell of his mother’s cooking. Down the hall, golden light flickered in the doorway to the kitchen, and when Itachi glanced down, right in front of him sat a pair of dark blue shinobi sandals much like the ones he was wearing.

Silently, he moved forward, leaving his shoes on in case he had to fight and trying not to remember how his mother would have reacted to the dirt he left behind. He had no weapons, no use of his chakra… if it came down to a fight, the young man would need to rely solely on taijutsu and whatever he was able to utilize from his surroundings.

Itachi halted just before crossing into the candlelight, slipping the hood of his cloak down for better visibility and reaching back to tighten his hair tie so the long black strands wouldn't get in his way. For a moment, all was still, and the Uchiha stood quietly in the darkness, listening.

“... do you mean, there's someone here? I don't…”

“...seriously don't sense anything…”

“...damn voice in my head at three in the morning…”

“Fine, I'll go check. Don't get your tails in a twist.”

He heard an exasperated sigh and the shuffle of moving clothing as the person in the kitchen stood. In one swift movement, Itachi stepped into the doorway and faced the other man. Both of them instantly froze, staring.

_Blue eyes… blond hair… three whisker marks on each cheek…_

_But_ why -

_“...your brother and his…_ friend.”

When Tenzo had said that, Itachi hadn't really understood the the emphasis on “ _friend_ ”, as if there had been something else to say instead. Something more accurate. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, but now?

_...Oh._

Naruto swallowed thickly, eyes wide and face white as he tugged nervously at a dark blue blanket he had wrapped around his shoulders. A blanket with the red and white Uchiha fan sewn onto it.

“... I can explain.”


	10. 10. Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We musn't forget the sun. He gets lonely, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Really sorry for the late review, guys. Didn't think it would take this long, what with it being summer and all, but I also somehow neglected to take into account the fact that I work a full time job of 12 to 17 hours a day six days a week, so...
> 
> This chapter I made extra long (over 5,000 words) to make up for it. Please don't hate me.

_“Times may have changed, but there are some things that are always with us - loneliness is one of them.”  
\- Laurie Graham._

~.~

Naruto was having another bad night.

Not a _terrible_ night, mind. Those nights were far less frequent and far more devastating, leaving him quivering and gasping for breath with the blankets thrown off and the sheets soaked through with sweat and tears. Nights when the pain of the heart became pain of the body and his loneliness was nearly too much to bear.

That night, as was with most nights, he hadn't been able to sleep at all. That night, the moonlight from the window was too bright, the shadows too dark, the bed too big and the silence too oppressive. That night was too empty without him.

He hadn't wanted to move to the Uchiha district at first. In fact, Naruto had raised several arguments as to why he _shouldn't_ (the bigness, Uchiha-ness and creepiness, to name a few). But nowadays, what Sasuke wanted, Sasuke got, at least where Naruto was concerned. Usually without a fight, too, though the blond had drawn the line at giving up instant ramen.

Thankfully, Sasuke hadn't pushed that issue.

There had been a few conditions, of course. A few conversations to be had and compromises to be made, as is with all serious relationships. One, Naruto refused to stay in a house with ghosts (this one had been carried on to the point where Sasuke had eventually rolled his eyes, scanned the entire district with his sharingan, and promptly told him to quit being difficult because if there _were_ ghosts, they were his _family_ , thank you). Two, if there was any way they were going to make it work, Naruto insisted on enlisting the help of their friends for renovations. Sasuke hadn't liked the idea of having too many people in his space (he called it his _domain_ , much to Naruto’s amusement), but had eventually relented once realizing how much the place needed it. 

And finally, Sasuke had to promise Naruto that no matter what he did or where he went, he would always come home.

Naruto understood why Sasuke left so often and for so long. It wasn't like the first time when he had dropped everything to chase after his own self destruction. He understood that this time, in his own way, the last Uchiha was trying to put himself together after a lifetime of falling apart. He understood. He really did. But he couldn’t deny that his absence hurt.

There was a small part of Naruto - a selfish part - which didn’t want to understand. The one who wanted to chase after Sasuke and bring him home again. He had spent nearly half of his life trying to reach him. He didn’t want to be the one staying home, alone and in pain as the time between visits became longer and longer. That part of Naruto was afraid that one day, Sasuke wouldn’t return at all. Afraid, because he knew he couldn’t just beat him up this time and bring him home and have everything be alright. The world doesn't turn by the tossing of fists.

So Naruto sat awake that night, staring at the shadowy outline of the room’s shoji door, alone in the Uchiha district, wondering what had happened to him. At that very moment, had his choices been different, Naruto wouldn’t have been sitting alone in a big empty house in a big empty district feeling sorry for himself. Had he made different choices, at that very moment, he could have been wrapped up in the warm embrace of someone who loved him. Someone who was there. Someone who would never leave.

It was at this point that Naruto always thought of Hinata.

He had tried. He had tried _so hard_ to love her. And in a way, Naruto thought some part of him always would. Hinata had been the first to tell him she loved him and meant it. She had given her life for him. Hinata, with her sweet smiles and her heart of gold and her sad eyes. Always her sad eyes. In the end, it had been she who set him free. She who told him to run after Sasuke and not to worry about her, because Sasuke was his happiness and she would be happy if they were. Sad-eyed Hinata, who always thought of others, never herself. Naruto wasn’t sure if he would ever not feel guilty for what he couldn’t give her.

But she was right. Naruto was happy where he was with Sasuke - when, of course, Sasuke was home. Sasuke, who was so different from Hinata, and yet so intrinsically the same. Sasuke, with his thoughtfulness and his surprising gentleness and the quiet way he loved. Sasuke, with the intense way he looked at Naruto and the sadness in his eyes when he thought nobody was watching. 

Sad eyes, just like Hinata. Perhaps that was why Naruto had grown attached to her, at first. Her eyes were familiar.

That night, Naruto tossed and turned. No matter which way he faced or how he arranged the blankets, he just couldn't get comfortable. His body refused to settle. Eventually, his restlessness got the better of him and he sat up, pressing his palm to his forehead with a weary sigh. Slowly, by second nature, as if seeking some sort of comfort in his solitude, the blond let his senses stretch beyond the empty streets of the Uchiha district to wash over the village.

And that was when he felt it.

A signal. A signature. Chakra, to be precise. Quiet and subdued, it moved through the village at a steady pace, and it was as if Naruto’s heart had leapt to his throat. There was only a second’s pause before he was tossing the blankets away, tripping in the tangled mess as he stumbled to the door and threw it open.

Down the dark hallway he flew, bursting through the front door and leaping off the engawa. He hardly took half a second to land before he was off again, his excited shout ringing through the still air. Deep within, a sleeping fox stirred, twitching his ears in irritation and blinking the sleep from his eyes. After a leisurely stretch and a lengthy yawn, he made himself known.

_“What’s got you so wound up, brat? Did I miss something important?”_

“Sasuke’s home!” Naruto shouted, uncaring that he had done so aloud.

Kurama grumbled noncommittally in reply, but at that point it was second nature for him to reach out with his senses and find the Uchiha man his host was so fond of. After a brief moment of confusion, he frowned, though it went unseen. _“Hold on, kit. That isn’t your Uchiha.”_

Naruto, who had just reached the long concrete wall and gates marked with the Uchiha fan which announced the entrance to the district, skidded to an abrupt halt. “ _What_?” he asked, brows knitting together in disbelief.

_“Check again.”_

Naruto swore he could hear the eye-roll in Kurama’s voice alone. Attempting to settle his racing heart with even breaths, Naruto did as he was told. Shifting from foot to foot impatiently, he sent his senses outward again, releasing a silent huff when he found what he was looking for. For a moment, he thought Kurama was messing with him - it really did feel like Sasuke - but then he allowed himself to look deeper and realized that while the two were definitely similar, there were a few subtle differences which made the separation between his lover and this stranger all the more apparent.

Sasuke’s chakra seemed to Naruto to carry the energy of an approaching storm. It seemed calm, almost silent, but there was a feeling of expectancy to it as well. A slight crackle to the undercurrent, the far off feel of rolling thunder and the sharp tang of ozone which warned of danger. Sasuke’s chakra signature was a fierce tempest disguised as harmless rain.

It was only that _this_ chakra was the exact opposite that Naruto had mistaken it for Sasuke’s. An imperfect copy. A mirror image. Completely the same and utterly different. It was the powerful swell of a stormfront, looming and oppressive and deadly, and yet beneath it all, a true serenity. The touch of spring, soft grays and blues and the sweet smell of recent rain. If Sasuke was a hidden tempest, then this man was the peace and stillness which came after.

Disappointment had never tasted so bitter.

However, once Naruto had noticed the differences between this chakra signature and the one he had hoped for, he knew exactly who it belonged to. This chakra was one he was unlikely to forget in this lifetime, so unique as it was, and so significant. His heart started up its frantic pace once more, even as his mind sank into suspicion.

From deep within, Kurama smirked, curling up and tucking his ebony nose beneath his tails. _“Now you’ve got it, brat.”_

Naruto paid him no mind as the fox slipped back into his silent slumber. There were more important things to worry about at present. With narrowed eyes, the young shinobi tensed and, a moment later, sprang forward once more. This time, he made a straight beeline towards the Hokage tower.

~.~

Naruto stared in bewilderment as Tsunade sat before him, her forehead pressed against her desk and a muffled groan escaping her lips. Mouth agape, he glanced to Yamato, who looked more exasperated than he did surprised. Slowly, realisation dawned.

“Hold on, you _knew_?!” He exclaimed.

“Naruto…” Yamato began uncertainly, only to be interrupted by Tsunade.

“It’s a classified matter, Naruto!” She snarled, having picked her head back up to send the younger man a fierce glare of warning. “There was a mishap. An accident concerning chakra samples in the med labs. You are not permitted to know anything else.”

Naruto stared back unwaveringly, eyes still narrowed in burning suspicion. But as the seconds went by and Tsunade remained steadfast, his resolve began to slowly weaken and crack. It was late - _too_ late - and he had been so excited about the prospect of Sasuke returning home that… perhaps Naruto had jumped ahead of himself a little bit. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. And he and Kurama had only felt faint traces of chakra, and they’d run across the entire village and not seen a single thing out of the ordinary. And Captain Yamato was trustworthy - was the look on his face a bit too stiff? He wanted to argue, but his disappointment still lingered and his heartache was heavy and Tsunade’s gaze was beginning to burn and Naruto just wasn’t _sure_ -

“Go to bed, Naruto,” Yamato said, calm but not unkind. “This past week has been rough for you. Ino says you’re still having nightmares. There’s no shame in admitting when you’re not at your best, and I think we’re going to really need you up to par in the months to come.”

“Why?” he asked, even as his shoulders sagged and the fight left him. Yamato was right. He was tired… so tired. He sometimes wondered if the feeling would ever go away.

Tsunade relaxed, a small smile crossing her lips once she realized she had won. “The Hokage elections are coming up soon, and Kakashi is up for consideration. He’s going to need yours and Sakura’s support, don’t you think?”

The younger man’s bright blue eyes sparked anew, an excited grin taking over his face. “You mean Kakashi-sensei’s finally back from his mission?!”

Yamato nodded. “Yes, he just got back earlier this evening. He probably didn't tell you because he was settling in.”

“Reading those pervy books of his, more like,” Tsunade muttered darkly.

“It's been so long since we’ve seen him!” Naruto said, excitement practically radiating off of him. “What took him so long? How did he look? Has he gotten old, Baa-chan? Did he see Sa…” he grew suddenly still and quiet, the smile slipping from his face to be replaced with a look of melancholy as if it had never been. “You know what? I'll just ask him myself when I see him. Have a good night.”

And with that abrupt parting, he was gone, leaving the room’s other two inhabitants staring after him as the door fell shut with a soft ‘ _click_ ’. Tsunade turned to look at the ANBU beside her, noticing the way his mouth had become a thin line, his eyes darkened by worry.

“He let that go too easily,” he said. “He used to fight us on everything under the sun. But he just let it go. It's not _right_.”

“There's nothing we can do, Tenzo,” she told him softly. It was something she had said many times before - too many, though whether it was to convince others or herself, she did not know.

“He’s just not… he's not…” 

“Happy?” Tsunade supplied.

“No, he's not happy.” Tenzo looked away, as if ashamed of what he said next. “I wish the real Naruto would come home.”

Tsunade had nothing to say to that.

~.~

The following afternoon found Naruto at his favorite ramen shop sitting next to one of his favorite people. At his elbow, three empty bowls were stacked, the top of the mini tower tipping almost expectantly towards the fourth he was finishing. On his other side, a young woman picked daintily at her second bowl, smiling softly back at him as he finished his story about his last spar with Sai and Sakura at their old team training grounds.

“So how was your week, Hinata?” he asked after the short pause left in the wake of his storytelling.

The pretty heiress dipped her head shyly. “Oh, it's been alright. Kiba invited Shino and I over for dinner the other night.” She smiled fondly. “They fought pretty intensely over whether or not Shino could make better Miso than Kiba. They've fought about everything since we were kids, but it's been getting worse lately. I just wish they'd see what everyone else does.”

“What, that they’re hella gay for each other?” Ayame whispered conspiratorially over the counter.

“That life is too short to spend it all pining,” she said quietly, then blushed. “But also that.”

The familiar face if guilt went tapping at his heart. Not even Naruto knew how many years the young woman had pined after him. All he knew was that Hinata had loved him unconditionally for many years, and he had broken her heart in the end. Hinata with the kind soul and sad eyes. Always the sad eyes.

“Did you hear about Temari and Tenten?” Ayame asked, bringing Naruto back from his thoughts.

“What about them?”

“They just got together,” she said. She lifted a towel and began wiping down bowls as she talked. “Apparently, they've been seeing each other for awhile, but they just made it official. I wonder how Shikamaru is taking it.”

“He's fine with it,” Naruto said dismissively.

Hinata gave him a wide eyed look. “Oh, really? I thought he and Temari were together.”

“They were,” Naruto replied, downing the rest of his ramen in one go. He took a moment to swallow and balance his bowl on the leaning tower beside him before continuing. “But you know how he is. He's never really been interested in relationships, physical or emotional.” He looked down at the countertop. “And you know he's never been the same since Neji.”

Neji. Another stab of guilt.

The two women fell silent at his admission. From the corner of his eye, Naruto saw the familiar sadness enter Hinata’s eyes, pure and whole and painful to see. He had made it appear that time. He often wondered if he had been the one to create it.

"I see you're doing well, Naruto! Did you cut your hair again? I like it." Ayame broke the silence, sending him a bright smile.

_She's wrong._

He grinned, running his bandaged hand through the short blond spikes sheepishly. "Yeah, it was getting too long. Can't let it grow too much or Sasuke won't recognize me when he comes home."

_I'm not okay._

Ayame's smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. "Naruto..." she began, setting her towel down carefully. 

_Please don't…_

"It's been almost nine months since he was here last. He's never been gone this long before. Don't... don't you think that maybe he's not -"

"He promised."

Ayame flinched at the coldness in his voice. Her father, Teuchi, who had returned from the storage room in the back just in time to hear the end, gaped in surprise.

He would not cry… 

Naruto stood then, his jaw clenched and his eyes unreadable, and set money gently down on the counter between his and Hinata’s empty bowls. “Thank you for the meal. I'll see you later.”

He would not cry.

“N-Naruto-kun!” Hinata called after him, alarmed, though by then he was likely too far away to hear. With a polite bow and an absent minded ‘thank you’, the young heiress was gone, just the swishing of the curtains and the flicker of ebony hair left behind.

After a brief moment of silence, Ayame scowled, gripping the towel on the counter fiercely until her knuckles turned white. “That beautiful, loyal boy is too good for that damn _Uchiha_.”

Teuchi sighed. “Stay out of it, Ayame. He’ll find his own way.”

“I hope so.”

~.~

“Naruto-kun!”

It wasn’t until Naruto had halted outside the Uchiha district that he finally paused enough to hear her. With a small sigh, he turned to face her. “I’m sorry, Hinata,” he said sincerely. “I left without saying anything to you. That was rude of me.”

“N-no, it’s okay! Really, I understand.” She said quickly. She looked away for a moment, biting her lip - a nervous habit Naruto had learned signalled when she was about to say something she wasn’t sure would be upsetting or not. “I…” she began, then shook her head, losing her courage. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

Naruto shook his head. “No, it’s okay. What were you going to say?”

Again, the routine. The biting of the lip. The refusal to meet the eyes. The uncertainty. Naruto was used to it. He had learned to be patient, at least where Hinata was concerned. Finally, she looked up, her cool, pale gaze unwavering. That was something else he had come to notice about her over time. Once she had grasped onto that courage she needed to say or do, she held on tightly until it was done.

“I was just going to say that… that I’m sure he’s coming back. He really does love you.” She said, the last part coming out as a whisper.

And there it was again. The stab of guilt. The memory of that day when he had leaned in to kiss her for the very first time resurfacing, the same day Sasuke was leaving, only for her to gently push him away. His heart wasn’t in it, she had said. He remembered how the sun had shown on her long ebony hair, further accentuating her shadowed face as she dipped her head away and told him to go. 

“He has your heart,” she had said. “You better go claim it before he leaves, or… or you might not ever get it back.” Then Hinata - kind, caring Hinata who thought of others, never herself - had smiled at him, so bright and broken and resigned and sorrowful all at once, and said, “Don’t worry about me, Naruto-kun. I’ll be happy if you are.”

It was in that moment Naruto realized that Hinata was possibly the most beautiful person he had ever known, or ever will know. And it was in that moment that he knew that she was right. He knew that he could never love her, could never need her. Not the way she needed him. Not the way he needed Sasuke. So he did what she told him, and he left, and he was all the more wounded for it.

He was all the more lonely for it.

Naruto cleared his throat. “... Thanks, Hinata,” he said quietly. He looked towards the entrance to the district behind him. “I think I’ll just…” 

Her eyes widened. “O-oh! I’m so sorry, I’m sure you just want to be alone. I’ll go now.”

_No. You’re wrong. Don’t go._

“Yeah, sorry,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Gods only know I can’t weed a garden to save my life.”

_Please don’t leave._

“Alright,” she said, a fond smile crossing her lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Naruto-kun. Have a good day.”

_I don’t want to be alone._

With a polite bow and a shy wave, the young woman turned away, and he watched her leave until she was gone. With another small, quiet sigh, Naruto turned and entered the Uchiha district, beginning the somewhat lengthy walk home. Behind him, the sun was beginning to set, making his shadow appear longer and darker before him. He kicked one stone. And then another.

He would not cry…

He would not cry.

~.~

The candle on the table flickered calmly as the Uzumaki and Uchiha stared at each other, both shocked and surprised and stunned all at once to see the other there. One hid it well. The other… not so much.

Naruto’s first thought was that he was right. He was _right_. He hadn’t been tired. He hadn’t been imagining things. Itachi Uchiha was _there_ , and Naruto was right all along.

Second, a fierce, hot anger washed over him. Tsunade had lied to him, her and Yamato both! A flat out, blatant lie, and Naruto hated lies and they knew that and could he ever trust them again and _holy shit_.

And third, he froze. He remembered where he was. He remembered what he was wearing. He realized what it looked like… Saw the exact moment when Itachi realized, too. Then, Naruto remembered who Itachi was. Specifically, who he was to _Sasuke_.

Sasuke, who he was actually kind of sleeping with.

...Sort of. (He couldn’t exactly sleep with someone who wasn’t _there_ , now, could he?)

And it was _so incredibly obvious_.

Tugging on the edges of the blanket nervously, he swallowed thickly. He was aware that he probably looked as pale as a ghost and guilty as all hell. “... I can explain,” he said, voice rising to a pitch it hadn’t touched since he was twelve. Which was embarrassing, to say the least. Way to take ‘meeting the family’ to a whole new level.

The older man sighed, looking almost like Tsunade did when she pinched her forehead, the look that said she was just _done_. That look usually meant someone was about to get tossed out a window. To his credit, Itachi didn’t do that. He simply breathed, relaxed his rigid spine, and nodded towards the table. “It would probably be best if we sat down first.”

Naruto nodded numbly. 

And so they sat. They sat there for a long time in silence, one staring unblinking - cataloguing, calculating, assessing - the other sweating nervously under the weight of his gaze. Naturally, as is with most stressful situations between two people, when they decided to finally speak, they did so at the same time.

“Listen, I’m sorry -”

“I approve.”

Naruto blinked, incredulous. “... What?”

Itachi raised one brow, the light of the candle between them causing his face to appear strangely phantasmic and statuesque. “Should I repeat myself?” he asked, the amount of dry sarcasm in his tone making Naruto wince.

“N… no, it's just… _why_?”

Itachi’s obsidian gaze was intense and burning as he answered. “You did what no one else could do. You pulled him from the darkness his mind had convinced him was home. You never gave up on him, even when everyone else believed he would be better off dead. You believed in him like no one else. You… loved him when I couldn't.” His hand on the table shifted, as if to reach out and touch Naruto’s, but he didn't. “If there is anyone in this world who deserves my brother’s heart, it's you, Naruto Uzumaki. So, I approve.”

Naruto’s heart seemed to soar at those words as the weight of a fear he never knew was there disappeared. The swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and said quietly,“huh. Wow. Uh… thanks. That… that means a lot to me, you know?”

He received a small nod in return. Clearing his throat, Naruto smiled nervously. “So, uh… how… how are you actually, you know, _alive_?”

Itachi's thin black brows shifted together into a miniscule frown, his jaw clenching ever so slightly, and Naruto wondered if the look was a mixture of heavy thought and frustration. One could never really tell with Uchihas. Even so, it was striking how much he looked like his younger brother in that moment.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, and something in his tone said that he was not entirely alright with that fact.

Naruto hummed an acknowledgement, nodding somewhat awkwardly. Dipping his head a bit, he chuckled incredulously, watching the flickering candlelight as he said, “You know, I really should be freaking out right now. My lover’s older brother just came back from the dead with no explanation whatsoever. He shows up out of nowhere, somehow everyone knows but me, and they all lie about it - that’s the part I _really_ can’t understand - and now here we are, sitting in my boyfriend’s kitchen chatting.” Naruto narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Itachi. “You sure you’re not some ghost Sasuke forgot to mention when I moved in?”

Itachi stared at him for a moment, sent a brief look down at his hands, then returned his gaze back to him. “Quite sure,” he said simply.

“And I’m still not freaking out,” Naruto continued, satisfied with Itachi’s answer. “I mean, not really. I kinda did think you were actually gonna kill me for a second there when you found out I was sle -” he cut off suddenly with a loud cough, averting his eyes entirely. “Well, that’s not important,” he said quickly.

Itachi stared at him again, long and hard, his dark eyes taking on a sinister quality in the dim orange light. “If you hurt him, I will,” he said seriously.

Naruto met his gaze unflinchingly. “If I hurt him, I’ll let you,” he said, just as serious.

After another long intense pause, Itachi gave a small nod of agreement, becoming the first to break eye contact as he let his gaze wander around the room curiously. Many things had changed about the room since he had been there last. The shoji doors, tatami matts and over all traditional layout were still very much the same since he had left it, but there were things there that he didn’t recall ever being there before. The fridge, for example. Or the marble countertops, or the modern table with chairs. The cupboards seemed to have been redone to be more spacious, and a few were added where appropriate.

Everywhere he looked, Itachi saw traces of Naruto’s existence in the home. The small green figures of frogs sitting in the windowsill above the sink, smiling widely over the room, for example. The few ramen cups stacked on the counters - just enough to catch attention, but not enough to be considered a clutter. The way the curtains were drawn tight to make the room feel smaller and to keep out the view of the empty streets beyond. 

If he concentrated hard enough, Itachi could still feel the energy of the Kyuubi in the room. He remembered how he had heard the younger man speaking with the fox aloud, even whilst no one else was around to hear. There had been a tiredness to his voice, a kind which could not be dispelled by a single night’s sleep, nor even several. It was a tiredness that was screaming so loudly in every inch of the place, begging to be heard. Itachi heard it clearly. He knew it well.

“I know it’s not how you remember it,” Naruto said, a small nervous laugh escaping him as he followed the older Uchiha’s wandering gaze. “It was a pain to try and renovate it like this while still keeping it to Sasuke’s liking. He’s so picky about these things.” He looked up at Itachi, blue eyes deep and hopeful. “So… what do you think?”

“I think…” Itachi said slowly, looking back across the the table to the blond. The candle flickered silently.

Naruto fidgeted impatiently. 

Finally, Itachi said three simple words. “... You are lonely.”

_He knows._

Naruto’s breathing hitched, then paused completely. His chest began to hurt.

He would not cry… 

“Yeah,” he rasped, his throat suddenly feeling tight and thick. His sight grew blurry. “Yeah, I am.”

He would not cry.

_… He sees me._

Obsidian eyes, cold and distant and yet indescribably warm all at once, peered down into his soul and found him there. The true him he hid from everyone else. “You’re not alone anymore.”

And Naruto cried.


	11. 11. Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sunbeam and shadow speaking by candlelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit late. Not terribly, though. I've had a lot of hospital appointments in the past week, and I've still got more coming up, so updates might be a little later than expected for a while. But I will try my best for you guys, alright? I live to please.
> 
> Reviews are amazing and would really help me in this tough time. *bats eyelashes*
> 
> Anywho, enjoy the chapter! XD
> 
> *Edit*
> 
> Due to a guest on FF.net informing me of my inaccurate characterization of Naruto in this chapter, I have reread it several times and determined that they were right. He acted more like I would expect Sakura to act - which is, suffice to say, incredibly out of character.
> 
> It has now been corrected. If you are just now reading this chapter, then congratulations, you get the better version. Thank you for letting me know, and I hope to get more KIND corrections like this in the future.

_"Sometimes you have to be selfish to be selfless."  
\- Edward Albert._

~.~

To say Itachi was not surprised when Naruto broke down would be an understatement. In fact, that was what he had been hoping for. The moment he laid eyes on the younger man, he knew. Naruto was a walking disaster, an explosion waiting to happen. He couldn't be allowed to go on the way he was without some sort of emotional release, and frankly, Itachi was surprised his friends and loved ones had ever let it get this bad.

It was amazing, really, how incredibly expressive those bright blue eyes could be. There it was; the explosion. The crumbling. The shattering of glass bursting forth and shimmering as it fell. And Itachi suddenly saw all at once everything he had known about Uzumaki Naruto and more. That he had incredible strength of an entirely different sort than he was undoubtedly known for. For all the pain and loneliness Itachi saw behind those blue eyes, he watched as the pieces fit themselves back together twice as fast as they had broken.

With an amazing amount of grace and poise, the younger man reached up with the back of his wrist and swiftly wiped away the one single tear that had fallen, sending the brightest grin he was capable of Itachi’s way. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he said sincerely, only the barest hint of thick emotion audible in his voice. “You just caught me off guard, is all. I blame my lack of sleep.”

Even now, his sheer resilience was astounding.

_You, Uzumaki Naruto, are quite a dangerous man._

Itachi tipped his chin down a bit, peering at him through darkened eyes, wondering. Pondering. He was sure the blond noticed his scrutiny, but he said nothing. “Naruto…” Itachi began cautiously. “How long has my brother been gone?”

Naruto shook his head minutely, glancing down at the candle. “He’s been coming and going for the past two years, now,” he said quietly. A calm seriousness had befallen his mood. After a long pause, he shrugged - an act of nonchalance. “At first, it was just weeks at a time, you know? But then two weeks became three and then four and then months and now… well, here we are.”

Itachi narrowed his eyes in concern. It sounded as if Sasuke was running away from something. Was it the village? His ties? His feelings for Naruto? Naruto's feelings for him? Perhaps he was running away from himself? He couldn’t be sure until he saw for himself how his brother interacted with the younger Jinchuuriki.

“Naruto,” he began again, firm resolve leaking into his tone. “How long has he been gone this time? How long has he left you here alone?”

“Nine months,” the blond answered, closing his blue eyes - too blue - and shaking his head, as if to dispel a thought or memory. “A full four months longer than last time.” Suddenly, his fist connected with the oaken surface of the table with a loud bang, causing the candle to jump several centimeters to the left. Thankfully, it did not go out. Itachi was only mildly surprised at the anger twisting his face.

“Damn it!” Naruto shouted, lips pulled back in a snarl. “Was it something I said? Something I did? How can I ever hope to bring him back to stay if the person he’s running from is _me_?” Just as suddenly as his anger had manifested itself, it was gone. Slowly, his fist on the table uncurled and slackened. He turned it until the palm was facing him, watching the shifting highlights and shadows from the candlelight. The young jinchuuriki shook his head. “What if he doesn’t come back?” he asked quietly. Itachi got the feeling he was asking himself more than anything.

The very slight tremble in his voice caused Itachi’s heart to clench painfully. He wished he had the answers. He wished his little brother was there to hear. The older Uchiha was willing to gamble that Naruto had never voiced these concerns to Sasuke even once. Perhaps if he had, things wouldn't have progressed to this point.

“He’ll come back,” Itachi said, trying to drop his voice to a tone that was more reassuring. He wasn't sure if he succeeded or not, out of practice as he was. “Even if it's just one last time, even if it's just to say goodbye, he'll come back. Perhaps he’ll take you with him. Perhaps he’ll see me and stay. One can never be truly certain, but if Sasuke has left for the reasons I’ve gathered, then he’ll be back.”

Naruto stared at the table for a long time after that, before looking up at him with blue eyes that were a bit more hopeful than before. It was strange to Itachi, seeing someone look at him like that. Like he was some sort of light instead of a nightmare and an inevitable death. Like he was someone to look up to.

… It made him feel like a brother again.

Itachi pushed the feeling away. He didn't deserve it. Not yet. Possibly not ever.

“I don't know when he's coming back,” Naruto said. His jaw tightened, a flash of familiar defiance showing through the burning of his eyes and the squaring of his shoulders. He gazed straight into Itachi's eyes and jabbed a thumb forcefully at his chest. “If he doesn't, I'll just have to go and get him. I'll drag him back if I have to, and I'll do it over and over and over again until he sees that I won't ever let him go. Because I promised him, and I don't break my promises, ‘ttebayo.”

Itachi heard his declaration, saw his steely resolve, and nodded curtly. “We’ll wait,” he said. “If he doesn't come back, I'll go with you. I, for one, would like to see my brother again. A little stubbornness on his part isn't going to stop me.”

A sharp, fox-like smile curved the younger man’s lips. Itachi could see the gears in his mind turning behind his eyes. “How long will we wait?”

“How does two weeks sound?”

A flash of white canine teeth. “Perfect.”

Itachi felt a smile of his own tugging insistently at the corner of his mouth. “Good.”

Naruto crossed his arms, appearing satisfied for the moment. “What'll we do until then?”

“Well, what have you been doing until now?” he asked.

Naruto chuckled sheepishly, reaching back to rub the back of his neck in what Itachi assumed was a nervous habit. “Well, for the past two years, I've been studying pretty hard to become a Jounin. My final test is coming up soon and I've been cramming pretty hard for that. Other then that, I've just been reading a lot, visiting Sakura-chan at the hospital, hanging out with Shikamaru on Tuesdays and having lunch with Hinata every Thursday. Sometimes, I go visit Gaara in Suna, but I don't like to leave the village all that often, you know, just in case I miss Sasuke.”

Naruto paused, then said, “But for the most part, I just stay here. It’s funny, you know? ‘Cause at first, I really hated being here alone, and I still kind of do, but now I just spend all my time here and sometimes I don't know why and most times it's just so obvious why, but I don’t -”

“Naruto, breathe,” Itachi reminded, calm and firm, trying to ground the younger man before he went off on a tangent. Then, once he had the blonde’s attention, he remarked, “I suppose, if you need it, I can help you out a bit with your studies.”

At the sudden spark of excitement lighting up Naruto’s face as he went to speak, Itachi quickly cut in (perhaps a bit forcefully) with, “Strictly bookwork, of course.”

Naruto’s grin fell again, but this time, there was still a smile left behind. Itachi counted that as a win. 

“Oh, alright,” the younger man said, his shoulders relaxing a bit more. “That's where I need help the most, anyway. Sakura tried helping, but her approach was too violent, so I ended up not learning anything. Then Shikamaru tried helping, but the way he explained it made it hard to understand. Sasuke's still technically a Genin and he's never taken the test before, so he couldn't help even when he was here. Sometimes on Thursdays, Hinata goes over my written work for me while we eat, and she's a big help, but we don't see each other enough for that to make a difference.” 

“Sounds like you just need someone to be patient and explain it to you in a way you can understand,” Itachi mused, leaning his arms on the table as he thought.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Naruto blinked. “Oh, yeah, I should probably let you know that Hinata comes over sometimes during the week to help with the gardens. Ino's been showing her how, so she likes practicing with the ones here where if she accidentally messes up, it won't make much of a difference. Sasuke's okay with it, and she's been doing really good so far, but if you're not comfortable with someone you don't know showing up right now, I'm sure she'll respect that. Hinata’s real thoughtful that way.”

Itachi tipped his head a bit, a curious gesture which struck Naruto as laughably childish for such a serious man. “She is the Hyuuga heiress, yes?”

“I'm not sure. It's complicated. Why, do you know her?” 

Itachi shook his head. “Not personally, no. But at one time, I was the Uchiha heir. I had to know the clan heads of Konoha, as well as their children. I was there after the births of both of Hiashi’s girls, along with my parents and most of the other clan representatives.” He noted Naruto's confusion and added, “To pay my respects.”

Naruto regarded the older man suspiciously. “But… weren't you guys enemies or something? I had to study clan histories. The Hyuuga and the Uchiha hated each other, I thought.”

“We did,” Itachi agreed. “And the more we hated each other, the more time we spent around each other. Keep your enemies closer than your friends, and you have less chance of being caught unawares.”

Naruto cringed. “That's messed up,” he said. “I wouldn't want my enemies anywhere near me. Clans are confusing, ‘ttebayo.”

Naruto’s mouth dropped open in surprise when the older Uchiha quietly laughed. Itachi’s features softened when he smiled, erasing the years his life had piled mercilessly on top of him, and he could suddenly see why Sasuke had always clung to him so tightly. If one grew up with someone like Itachi, with those warm dark eyes and the way you could see how love and fondness just poured from him unconditionally if you were looking right, it would be nearly impossible to ever let that go.

Even in hatred, Sasuke had never let Itachi go. That had to say something, right?

“You know,” Itachi began, the brief smile lingering in his voice pulling Naruto from his mind. “When you were three years old, the Sandaime tasked me with looking after you. When I wasn't on missions with ANBU, I followed you around. I made sure you weren't getting into trouble and ensured that trouble didn't find you.”

“Must've been terrible at your job, then,” Naruto muttered.

“I was instructed not to make my presence known,” Itachi explained. “I had many responsibilities and many missions and important clan matters which required my attention. I did what I could when I could, but I'll be the first to admit I didn't help much. But you were a strong child, even then. And you've become a good man. I couldn't save you, but you saved my little brother, and I will never not be grateful to you. I owe my life to many people, but you are one of the few I would give it for.”

Naruto reached up to rub at his eyes, sniffling. “Stop doing that,” he grumbled, voice thick. “You and Sasuke both just say the most emotional things when I least expect it. It's not fair.”

Itachi gave a wry half smile. “Life rarely is.”

“Yeah, well, I don't get enough sleep to be dealing with this so early in the morning. I still have to go see Iruka-sensei in a couple hou-” The young man’s words were cut off by a large yawn, followed by multiple blinks and a small shake of the head. “Wow. Kind of saw that coming.”

Itachi frowned, glancing toward the window, then back to Naruto. “What time is it now?”

Naruto shook his head wearily. “Man, I don’t know. Like four? Maybe five? I stopped keeping track a long time ago. As in, the past nine months. Actually, no, make that the past two years. That sounds accurate enough.”

Itachi nodded. “I should probably let you know that Ino’s stopping by in a few hours.”

“Okay… why?”

“To check on me. She worries.”

Naruto grimaced. “Aw, man, she adopted you, too?! I am so sorry that happened to you. You know, if you want to talk about it, I’m always here. Like, I understand these things can be pretty traumatizing -”

The older Uchiha regarded him dryly. “I’m fine,” he said. “But you won’t be if you don’t get to bed. I can tell you right now that I’m a far more forgiving tutor than Umino-san, if he’s still how I remember, and something tells me he won’t take too kindly to you falling asleep while he’s trying to help you.”

Naruto’s eyes widened comically. “Ugh, you’re right! Why are you always right? Iruka-sensei’s gonna kill me!”

Itachi’s serene smile seemed dangerously deceiving as he responded, “Better get to it, then.” His dark eyes sharpened. “I’ll warn you. If you fall asleep even once with me, I refuse to tutor you.”

Naruto swallowed and nodded stiffly.

Itachi held his gaze for a moment, allowing the silence to emphasize his point, then broke eye contact. “Good,” he said simply. 

He rose from his chair, reaching for the candle and waiting as Naruto him to the doorway. Stopping just over the threshold, the blond glanced back over his shoulder and said, “We, um… we left your room alone for the most part. Sasuke didn’t want to change anything. He cleaned it himself, since he could remember the exact places everything went. I’ve wiped down surfaces a bit and cleaned the dust from the bedding so that Sasuke didn’t have to do a whole lot when he came back, so it should be pretty usable. If not, I’m sure I can find someplace else for you to sleep.”

Itachi shook his head. “My room is fine, Naruto-san. Thank you.”

“Gee, you don’t have to use my name so formally,” Naruto said, grinning as he crossed his arms behind his head. “I mean, we’re kind of living together now? And you’re Sasuke’s amazing older brother, so I’ve kind of considered you my family for a while.” He either didn’t see the stunned look flitting quickly across the Uchiha’s face or he didn’t acknowledge it as he gave a little wave and turned away, calling back a cheerful, “Sleep well, Itachi,” as he disappeared from view.

The young Uchiha stared after Naruto for several long moments, wide eyed and frozen in place. It seemed wherever Itachi went, someone was saying something which caused his ever busy mind to quit functioning completely. Family? He didn’t have that. Didn’t deserve that after all he’d done. He didn’t deserve Sasuke, either, but even he could be a selfish man where his beloved little brother was concerned. But the Jinchuuriki boy? He owed Itachi nothing. All he had ever done to Naruto was aid the organization which stole his life from him and drive the person he loved into a state of vengeance, murder and madness. Family? That wasn’t something Itachi got to have.

And yet there it was, all laid out and pretty in the light of the candle waning in his hand.

Finally, Itachi shook his head, smiling fondly. “You truly are an enigma, Naruto.”

Perhaps he would allow himself a bit more selfishness. Just a bit.


	12. 12. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darkness can lurk anywhere. There would be no light without shadow, no heaven without hell.

_“But in the end it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer."  
\- J. R. R. Tolkien, ‘The Two Towers”._

~.~

Despite all his mental preparations, Itachi hadn’t been expecting this.

The candle’s wick still smoked from being put out, sitting innocently just a few feet away, but he was hardly paying attention to that anymore. The moment the flame had vanished and the darkness had descended upon his little room down the hall, his heart had felt like it was trying desperately to rip itself from his chest. He lay there alone, pressed flat against the sheets with his hands grasping at his chest as it tightened painfully. He felt like he was floating and falling all at once, though his breath had disappeared as if he had already hit the ground. 

In the haze of panic and pain, Itachi’s mind had abandoned him.

In reality, the moon shown through his window, soft and silver, painting the room pale gray. It was not total darkness. Not really. But in his mind, the shadows stretched forward, blotting out the moon completely. In his mind, the sky bled and the silence felt like poison.

In reality, there was nothing but him and the quiet emptiness. In his mind, he held a burning scroll which hurt in ways far more than physical. The crackle of the fire sounded like screams and the falling ash turned to blood at his feet. There was a thin, delicate scrawl of writing across the edge, but the flames shifted and his vision blurred too much to read it. In reality, he already knew what it said.

The darkness consumed him. It consumed everything. He let it.

_“You truly are a kind child.”_

In reality, his heart raced and his breath came in short, rapid bursts.

In Itachi’s mind, his heart was quiet, his chest was still. In his mind, he was dead once again.

He wasn’t sure what pulled him out. One moment, he was drifting, the next, he was digging his nails into his chest through the fabric of his shirt. His eyes tore themselves open, his head seeming to turn of its own accord. His voice was a creature he hardly recognized, caught somewhere between a gasp and a cough and escaping as a hoarse whisper. A thin streak of bright orange burst from his lips and the candle flared to life. In the blink of an eye, the encroaching darkness had vanished completely.

He lay still for a long while after that as his heart slowed and his breathing evened. He moved to press the back of his wrist to his eyes, then immediately decided against it as the darkness surged up once more. He settled with pressing his hand to his forehead instead.

Fear of the dark, he thought, shaking his head and resisting the urge to laugh bitterly. This is what death has left me. I’ll have to sleep with a light like a child if I am to sleep at all.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

~.~

Itachi wasn’t sure how long he lay there, just that it was long enough to watch as the sky slowly paled and the candlelight retreated, unable to contend with the light of dawn. Slowly, the world began to wake while he himself hadn't slept. It was a feeling he was far too familiar with. 

By this point, the candle was barely a breath away from drowning in the puddle of wax that used to give it shape. He turned his face away from the window, watching as the wax set into the material of the tatami mat flooring beneath it, knowing it was going to be difficult to remove later yet unable to bring himself to care in the moment. 

A headache had begun, persistent and insidious in its quest to bring him to his metaphorical knees. But as the first ray of sunlight pierced through the window to fall bright and softly intense across the floor, Itachi sighed long and slow and decided he wouldn't let his horrible luck win out. With one last glance at the now drowned candle, he sat up, wincing as his spine settled painfully into place.

Through the thin walls, he could just barely make out the sounds of someone - Naruto, most likely - leaving another room and moving softly down the hall towards the kitchen. He paused slightly outside Itachi’s door before continuing once more, his steps noticeably more quiet than before. It was a small act of courtesy, but not one Itachi would forget. After all, it is such kindnesses which matter most to the undeserving.

With a quick stabilizing breath and a tensing of muscles, the young man stood stiffly, wincing again as yet more bones shifted into place, the sound grating in his ears. If waking from death, reuniting with friends from long ago, returning home after so long away, realizing your brother had grown up under your nose, further realizing that said brother was also in a _very_ gay relationship (though really, where was the surprise?) with the hero of the fourth shinobi war and coming to accept the fact that the world had utterly and completely passed you by... if all of that didn't succeed in making a shinobi of just twenty one feel _old…_

Well, the morning after certainly would. And all the aches and pains that came with it.

Wonderful.

After taking one more brief moment to stretch his limbs and work out kinks, Itachi folded up his shikibuton, stored it neatly in the small closet from whence it came, and quietly exited the room. He entered the kitchen to find Naruto fully dressed and standing at the counter, blinking tiredly down at an instant ramen cup. His hair, though far shorter than Itachi remembered it being, seemed almost twice as unruly, and he had dark shadows under his eyes. 

The Uchiha crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. “Good morning, Naruto,” he said. Quietly, so as not to startle him. The younger man startled anyway.

“Oh! Goo…” He paused to yawn widely. “Good morning, Itachi. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were awake, or I would have made you one, too,” He said, his words a bit sluggish from sleep, as he gestured to the steaming ramen cup.

Itachi raised a skeptical brow. “... I’m fine, thank you.”

“Okay, suit yourself.”

Itachi dipped his head a bit - his own subtle variation of a nervous habit - and pushed away from the door frame in favor of a more comfortable looking chair at the table. A few seconds later, Naruto joined him, a pair of chopsticks in one hand and his ramen in the other. 

“You look dead,” Itachi stated bluntly.

Naruto’s immediate response was a snippy, “You would know, huh?” To which he blanched and followed up with a panicked, “Oh, uh, not… not that I meant… I didn’t mean -!”

Itachi shook his head amusedly, giving a small wave of his hand to dismiss the issue. “Relax, I’m not offended. I hardly remember anything about death, just…” _Darkness_ , his mind whispered. He fell silent.

Naruto tilted his head a bit, confused as to what exactly had made the emotion suddenly drain from the older man’s face. As quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, a smooth impenetrable mask left in its place. However dense he could be - and he knew he was, in fact, quite dense - Naruto had enough sense to know when a topic should be left alone. So instead, after a particularly large bite of ramen, he changed it completely.

“So, what’s your favorite kind of tea?” He asked.

Itachi blinked, the shadow over his eyes seeming to lift a bit in the process. His head tipped to the side. “...Gyokuro. Why?”

Naruto winced. “Ah. Heh, I didn’t think you had such expensive taste. I should’ve known better.” The blond grinned and laughed good-naturedly. “I just ask because Iruka-sensei convinced me to try drinking tea in the mornings since it’s energizing and better tasting than coffee - turns out I actually _like_ the stuff, can you believe it? - but it wouldn’t really be fair to drink some now without offering you any, huh? But I didn’t know what you liked and what you didn’t, so I just thought I’d ask, y’know?”

“An understandable conclusion,” Itachi agreed.

“Yeah, sure, but… you see…” Naruto paused, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of money nowadays, but old habits die hard. I can’t bring myself to justify getting anything too expensive. So we only have Sencha, Bancha and - don’t kill me here - _Konacha_.”

The darkening of his eyes and the slight parting of his lips at the name “Konacha” was simultaneously a somewhat milder reaction than Naruto was expecting and the most offended he had ever seen anyone get over tea. Was he right to be worried? Naruto thought he was. Hell, Itachi hadn’t even bat an eyelash at the realization he was in a relationship with his younger brother.

… Maybe it was time to leave?

Itachi closed his eyes - perhaps a bit too tightly, if Naruto wasn’t seeing things. “ _Bancha_ is fine, thank you.”

Yeah, he should definitely leave. Leaving was good. Leaving was safe. Leaving was better than facing the literal embodiment of “ _if looks could kill_ ” anyday. 

Naruto finished the rest of his unconventional breakfast quickly as he stood, the noise of the chair scraping back nearly causing him to stumble in surprise. After setting his chopsticks on the counter next to the sink and disposing of the now empty ramen cup, he snatched up his Hitai-ate from where it had been resting at the edge of the table and tied it on. Itachi watched him quietly.

“Well, like you said last night, Iruka-sensei is a scary man and I would really hate to keep him waiting,” Naruto explained, a touch of haste in his voice. “I should be home around 3-ish, I think, but it could be longer.” He paused at the door, turning his head to send Itachi a tentative look over his shoulder. “I'll, uh… I’ll maybe see about picking up some of that Gyokuro stuff on my way back, okay?”

Itachi nodded gratefully, a small smile replacing his earlier tension. “Thank you, Naruto. Have a good day at school.”

Naruto made a face on his way out the door. From the hall, he hear the blond mutter “Gee, ‘tachi, don't say stuff like that. I've been out of the academy for years, y’know?” Then, from further down by the door which lead to the engawa, Naruto shouted back, “Hey, good luck with Ino! You’re gonna need it!”

Itachi listed as the faint sound of the door sliding shut left him in silence. With a shake of his head, that fond smile still clinging to his lips, the uchiha stood from the table. Now that Naruto was gone for the day, he had several self given missions of utmost importance lined up for himself, starting with food. He hadn't eaten in over two years, after all, and death had left him more than a little hungry. 

Besides, call him fussy, but when Naruto came back, he refused to drink his favorite tea on an empty stomach. That wasn't how he was raised, and his mother surely would have raised a fuss.

~.~

Hyuuga Hinata stood beside her father and younger sister at the gates of the Hyuga clan compound, shoulders straight and pale gaze steady. It had taken her many long years, but finally - finally - she could stand in her father’s presence with a semblance of near-confidence. But however far she had come, she knew her father still saw flaws. She still tilted her chin downward toward the ground. She still could not meet his gaze. This was unacceptable behavior for an heiress of the Hyuuga.

This was why, as of that morning, Hinata was no longer an heiress of the Hyuuga.

Hanabi had been wearing a bright grin all morning, clinging tightly to Hinata’s arm as she chatted away about her new title and responsibilities. She had mustered a small, indulgent smile for the younger girl as they walked, promising no less than three times on the way that she would do her best to help her sister with the transition as much as she was able. As much as the revocation of her title had stung, Hinata held nothing but pride for her sister’s accomplishment. Hanabi would make a much better leader than Hinata ever would.

Hyuuga Hiashi stood beside Hanabi, tall and imperious as he listened to his youngest daughter speak. Normally, he would not allow her to behave in such a childish manner over something so important. However, as they were away from the gathering hall and most of the other clan members, he allowed her this small indulgence. He watched the two girls keenly, pale eyes impenetrable with his hands folded and hidden in his long sleeves.

It was a cold look of condescension that Hanabi could emulate almost perfectly. A look Hinata had never come close to wearing in all her eighteen years.

“Onee-san?” Hanabi paused suddenly in her rambling to ask, tilting her chin up to look at Hinata with large, adoring eyes. Hinata didn’t think she’d ever get used to that look.

“Yes, Hanabi-sama?” She responded.

Hinata watched with amusement as Hanabi’s nose scrunched up in disgust at the added honorific. She opened her mouth to correct her, but hesitated, flicking her eyes to Hiashi - whose eyes had narrowed - then back again. With a barely perceptible tightening of the jaw, Hanabi smiled sweetly.

“Oh, Onee- _sama_ , won’t you accompany your dear Imouto to the markets today?” She asked, her retaliation coming out in the thick layers of near-mocking politeness in her tone.

Hinata did laugh then - quietly, behind her hand. “Yes, Hanabi. I would be happy to accompany you.”

It was at that moment that Hiashi spoke up. “Hanabi, you go on ahead,” he said, turning to pin Hinata with a calculating stare. “I have matters to discuss with your sister concerning her new position in the family.”

Hinata bowed her head and watched her sister go, the familiar feeling of deep melancholy taking hold of her - a special type of darkness she had not yet learned to fight. This was her life now. She was resigned to it.


	13. 13. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shard of starlight. The dawn's last shadow. Their meeting is fleeting, their time so little, but the impact is such that the very earth shivers, the very sky quakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As an apology for taking so long, I gift to you a massive, over 5,000 word chapter. I refused to stop writing until the end goal was reached - I just, y'know, took a few detours along the way. But hey, at least you guys get one of the moments you've been waiting for. Thanks for hanging on this long.

_"You never know when you're gonna meet someone and your whole wide world, in a moment, comes undone."_  
\- Chris Daughtry, 'Start of Something Good'.

~.~

"Tsunade-sama's just made the announcement," Ino said as soon as he opened the door.

"Everyone knows you're here now," Sakura added from behind her, her green eyes apologetic for his sake.

Itachi stared at them for a moment, trying his best to wrestle down his unease at the news, before nodding curtly and stepping aside to let them in.

"She only told the active shinobi and shinobi clans," Ino continued as she removed her shoes in the entryway. "Called 'em all together. The ones who weren't on missions elsewhere, at least. Even so, I'm willing to bet everyone in the village knows by now, and probably all of Fire Country come morning."

"She also asked us to give these to you," Sakura said, passing Itachi a small stack of papers. He took them from her gently, careful not to touch her hand. "Those are plans to fortify the Uchiha district with newer and stronger seals. The eventual end plan is to have it set up so that no one can enter here unless you, Naruto or Sasuke allows it. Tsunade-sensei will also be given access, but that's more for show and formality to the council than anything. Otherwise, they'd never allow it, what with Sasuke…" She paused, eying him nervously. "Well, they just don't trust him all that much, is all," she finished quietly, looking away.

"Tsunade-sama wants you to look those over and approve them. She's given you permission to make any changes you see fit," Ino swooped in, not allowing an awkward silence to form. (Itachi was grateful for this, and from the looks of it, Sakura was, too.) "We're not trying to cage you or back you into a corner," Ino hurried to add before he could get a word in edgewise. "We just really think it's necessary to be cautious in this situation."

Sakura nodded earnestly. "Yeah. You were dead, and now you're not. I think there's a certain amount of risk that comes with that. We just want to keep you safe."

"And Sasuke and Naruto, too," Ino added.

"Yes, them too," said Sakura.

Both women fell silent, turning towards him expectantly. Itachi was momentarily at a loss for words. Clearing his throat, he glanced down at the papers in his hand, skimming the first few lines a bit, before directing his gaze back up. "Tea?" He offered.

~.~

"Most of these are blood seals," Itachi observed thoughtfully as he read through the information the kunoichi had brought him more thoroughly. The tea had been made and left to steep and the three had settled at the table. The more time passed, the more Sakura began to relax, and now the smile she wore when she addressed him was less tight and uncomfortable and more natural.

"They're the ones that work the best," she said, nodding as she turned one of the pages her way. She pointed out the most relevant parts of the diagrams. "I'm no expert, but the way I understand it, chakra, while unique to each individual, has been proven to be easily manipulated, replicated and nullified by certain powerful or specialized shinobi. You have many enemies and most of them are quite powerful, so chakra based seals aren't all that trustworthy in this case.

"If we're using sealing techniques from Uzushio - and I assume we are - then these blood seals are unique to an individual right down to the molecular makeup of every single strain of DNA, which would make it incredibly difficult to manipulate and outright impossible to replicate without samples directly from the source," Itachi mused, nodding appreciatively. "They are strongest when the blood is fresh, so the most we would have to do is renew them every month or so. A smart choice, provided an enemy doesn't somehow get ahold of our blood. Unlikely, but not impossible."

Ino hummed. "They thought of that, too. Every seal diagram has been modified and laced with a jutsu designed by the second Hokage that kind of… I don't know, scans every person who passes over them? I'm not too clear on how that works, but anyway, if they don't have the same genetic makeup as the sample provided or the seals already set in place, you three will be alerted immediately to their presence, a trap will spring - don't ask what, Tsunade wouldn't tell us - and the subject will be detained and given to Ibiki for questioning." Ino cracked her knuckles, a smug smile gracing her lips. "I'll probably be doing the honors and boy, will it _hurt_."

Sakura shot her wife a sideways glance. "Remember, dear, vegetables don't spill secrets."

"They do if you cook 'em," Ino retorted, sticking her tongue out childishly.

"You scare me sometimes."

"I know."

Itachi looked away. "This seems an awful lot of effort to put in just for me," he said quietly, catching the women's attention.

Ino hummed. "Apparently, Tsunade had the Fuuinjutsu specialists working nonstop on this since almost the moment I told her you were actually _you_. She wants to have them set up as soon as possible. Word travels fast, but enemy shinobi are often faster."

"Are you sure I'm worth it?" He asked seriously.

"Absolutely," they both said at once, Ino appearing offended and Sakura looking concerned.

"Why would you think _that_?" Sakura asked.

"We wouldn't be wasting our time with all this if you weren't worth it, genius," Ino replied haughtily, ignoring the visual daggers her wife was sending her way. The blond reached across the table and took his hand in her own firmly, pale blue eyes piercing. He tried his best not to flinch at the unexpected contact. "You listen here. You may be this ultra powerful all-knowing ninja who could snap any one of us like a twig if you wanted to, and you may have done horrible things in the past for heartbreaking reasons, and you may not think that you, Uchiha Itachi, are worthy of redemption, but so help me, I _will_ make you see it the way I do, the way we _all_ do. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it will happen. Someday, you will learn to love yourself, and it starts with respecting that people actually want to help you. Get it?"

Itachi stared back at her for a moment. No one had ever just come right out and dismissed his insecurities so thoroughly before. Though, from what he had gathered of Ino so far, it made sense. He dipped his head to the younger woman, a small smile tugging at his lips. "We shall see," he said simply.

It wasn't perfect - not even close - but it was a start, and Ino accepted it gladly.

Sakura let out a relieved sigh.

However, it appeared that Ino wasn't quite ready to let the topic of his health go just yet. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did you even sleep last night at all? The shadows under your eyes are worse since the last time I saw you." Her head tilted just slightly in a way that made her eyes flash sharp and electric. "You _promised_ you'd be fine. Did you lie? Do I need to start babysitting you now too, like I do Chouji, Shikamaru and Ibiki? Because I will."

Sakura gasped in outrage. "Ino, we are _not_ adopting Ibiki, too!"

Ino scoffed. "Not adoption, dear. Just long-term mother-hen work. There's a difference."

Sakura's nostrils flared, but she made an admirable show of reining in her temper, Itachi thought, as she squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and said no more on the matter.

Seeing how she had won the argument so easily before it had even begun, Ino smiled softly and touched her wife's hand, as much an apology as it was a reassuring gesture. Sakura relaxed a bit at that, and Ino turned her attention back to Itachi, who was waiting in patient silence in place of a response.

"Does your head still hurt from the interrogation?" She asked seriously. She shook her head, looking suddenly guilty. "I tried my best to be gentle, but subjects have been known to experience lingering pain for up to a week or more afterwards."

"I do still have headaches," Itachi admitted, "But it's not that much of an issue, and I can ignore it well enough. It was a bit much, being back home, is all. You shouldn't worry."

"Can't quite help it, though, can I?"

"No, I suppose not."

Sakura cleared her throat, catching their attention, as she peered up hesitantly at him. "If… Well, if you want, I could maybe try and heal some of the damage Ino's chakra did. Some things just need time, but I could do enough to ease the pain. Perhaps help it along to healing a bit faster than it would otherwise."

"I'm fine," was Itachi's immediate response. Then, at Sakura's deflation, he added, "Thank you for the offer. If it gets distracting, I'll come find you."

"Promise?" She asked, raising a suspicious brow.

"Of course," he said. The words were weighted.

It was amazing, Sakura thought, how incredibly heavy darkly colored eyes could feel when their gaze was directed at you. Sasuke's had the same effect, and Madara's and Obito's, too. Maybe it was some sort of an emotionally distant shinobi thing? Or perhaps it was just an Uchiha thing. It was hard to say without further analysis.

Ino and Sakura stayed there in the Uchiha-Uzumaki house conversing lightheartedly for the better part of an hour while Itachi mostly listened and gave the occasional neutral input until time and duty called them away. The tea remained cold, untouched and forgotten.

~.~

Hinata picked absentmindedly at the platter of sushi she shared with another, lips pursed slightly in thought as she gazed out at the familiar hustle and bustle of the streets. She watched with a small smile as Hanabi, easily distinguishable by the bright colors she wore, interacted with a blushing red Konohamaru in front of a weapons merchant. She was teasing him, Hinata realised. She had that look about her, the one where her intense eyes softened and their father's severe mouth curled upwards in a look more reminiscent of their mother.

"Do you think she fancies him?" her companion asked quietly.

Hinata turned her head away from the street to face her third cousin, Hyuuga Shō. Shō, like every other Hyuuga, had their clan's signature pale, pupil-less eyes. However, unlike most Hyuuga and more similar to Hinata herself, his long braided hair differed in color from the rest of their family, favouring a far lighter chestnut with a distinct russet tinge. (It was long a mystery how the red had gotten there as both of his parents had dark brown hair, but a trip to the clan archives revealed that his great, great grandmother had been in an arranged marriage to a man from the fallen Uzushiogakure, where the color red had run rampant. It was just luck that it had decided to show up in him after so many generations.)

Shō reminded Hinata of brother Neji very much. They hadn't really interacted at all before the end of the war, but he had been the one to bring her the few possessions Neji had left to her, and Hinata, grieving and with the only person capable of comforting her having been permanently laid to rest, offered to make him tea. She had expected Shō to politely decline - to maintain their family's usual icy distance - but instead, he had smiled and quietly accepted. Thus began their friendship, which had soon extended to Hanabi as well.

Right then, he was looking out across the street as Hinata had done, a worried frown pinching his brow.

Hinata looked away, her smile disappearing. "Perhaps," She responded, "but she knows her duty. She won't get too close."

Shō shifted, settling his elbows on the table and propping his chin on his wrist. "Its just… she could be hurt. He could hurt her so easily without even knowing it."

She doesn't really know how to respond to that, so she doesn't. Instead, she sees Konohamaru duck his head in an uncharacteristically shy manner and say something which turns Hanabi's cheeks pink and causes them both to look away awkwardly. Hinata's expression was beginning to mirror Shō's, the worry biting at her lip, but when Hanabi says her goodbyes and makes her way back towards them, she paints a flawless smile on her face and gives her higher ranking sister the proper soft greetings.

Shō smiled a gentle smile, his pale eyes catching the light just enough to display a slight blue-gray sheen. "Welcome back, Hanabi-sama." He spread his hands invitingly towards the sushi rolls he and Hinata were sharing, an amused upturn to his lip. "Care to join us? We've got eel, salmon, tuna… pick your poison."

Hanabi plucked a piece of seaweed wrapped rice with a dark pink piece of tuna in the middle from the platter and popped it in her mouth. "Thanks, Shō," she said, sticking a rice-speckled tongue out at him in a way which surely would have earned a severe scolding from her father, had he been there.

Shō just shook his head and chuckled, reaching for the eel. "So, where are you off to from here, Hinata-chan?" he asked casually. Hinata was glad their earlier conversation had been dropped for the time being.

She lifted a small bag she had been keeping on the floor at her side so that both he and Hanabi could see. "I've picked up some new seedlings I'd like to try out in Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun's garden today. It's a bit late in the season, but they're autumn plants, so I'm curious how they'll do."

Hanabi frowned a bit. "Konohamaru just told me all the senior Shinobi, Chuunin and up, were called to a meeting by the Hokage this morning. The baka wouldn't tell me anything, but I heard someone else say that it had something to do with the Uchiha. Something about how the compound is off limits now without express permission to enter. You might want to check on that before you go, Onee-san. What do you think, Shō?"

Shō dipped his head in embarrassment. "Ah, I completely missed that one… I'm afraid I don't know anything about it."

The innocent close-eyed smile he wore was _clearly_ hiding something. Hanabi narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but chose not to say anything.

Hinata bit her lip worriedly. "I… I don't know, do you… do you think I should wait and go back later? Naruto-kun told me yesterday that it was okay for me to come work in his garden and I haven't heard word from him otherwise…"

Hanabi shrugged. Shō held up his hands in surrender, as if to say 'hey, I've got nothing.' Out loud, he said, "Just do what you think is best. You're rarely wrong."

Hanabi nodded in agreement, her mouth full of tuna sushi.

The young woman sighed, staring down at the bag of seedlings in her hand as she deliberated. "Well, I suppose… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to stop by, and if Naruto-kun doesn't want me there, then I can just… leave."

She paused for a moment, then sighed again and stood. Shō stopped her with an outstretched hand before she could pay.

"I've got it," he said insistently. "Really, it's okay. I promise you can pay next time. Deal?"

Hinata smiled appreciatively. "Deal."

After a hug for Hanabi and a light touch to the shoulder for Shō in farewell, Hinata left her family members in the Sushi shop, pacing slowly down the street in the general direction of the Uchiha compound. She remained lost in thought for most of the way.

Hinata was a bit surprised to run into Ino and Sakura at the entrance. The blond was gushing over what sounded like a new extension to the greenhouse at the flower shop while Sakura patiently listened and added her input. Plants and flowers and newer growing facilities weren't exactly Sakura's forte, but she had learned enough in the months since the two had been married to keep up fairly easily.

"Hello, Ino-san. Sakura-san." Hinata bowed politely, her hair falling in front of her face and obstructing her view.

"Hey, Hina-chan!" Ino greeted with a bright smile. Sakura waved and greeted her with equal enthusiasm. "What are doing here? I thought I saw you shopping with your sister."

"Oh, I was," Hinata responded, straightening so she could see her friends properly. "It was a lovely afternoon. Shō came, too."

"Aw, that was nice of him." Sakura said kindly.

Hinata nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, he is very kind. I left him and Hanabi-chan at a sushi shop awhile back." She held up her bag of autumn seedlings for the two women to see. Ino peered inside and whistled appreciatively. "Naruto-kun told me I could stop by today and work in Uchiha-san's garden, so that's where I'm going."

Sakura frowned, shooting a worried glance at her wife. "... Hinata," she began slowly, "did you go to the assembly today? No one's allowed to enter without permission, Hokage's orders."

"She has Naruto's permission," Ino countered, a strange, secretive gleam in her eye. "He isn't here now, but knowing him, he wouldn't tell her no."

Sakura still looked unsure, sending Ino a suspicious glare, but eventually, she acquiesced. They both wished Hinata luck and began making their way back into town once more. As soon as they were out of earshot, Sakura turned and punched Ino in the arm forcefully.

"What the _hell_ were you thinking?" she hissed. "She doesn't know he's there! We don't even know if _he_ knows she's coming!"

Ino shrugged, rubbing her arm with a wince. "It'll all work out," she said simply. "Hinata's a real sweetheart. She's a good friend for people with self esteem issues. Which is, like, almost every shinobi I know."

"So what, you just decided you'd throw them together and see what happens?"

Ino shrugged again. "Well, that's what we did to Naruto, isn't it?"

Sakura tried, but there really wasn't anything she could say to counter that. She shut her mouth and stared ahead with her arms crossed, fingers balled into fists. "You better hope nothing goes wrong," she said lowly. "If I have to drag Uchiha Itachi out of a PTSD episode, or console the Hyuuga heiress because she thought she did something horribly wrong, it's your head I'm putting on the chopping block."

"It'll work out," was all Ino said.

~.~

The old house fell eerily silent when the Kunoichi left. Itachi stood at the edge of the engawa and waited until they had both turned a corner and disappeared from view. With a breath of silence and a restless sigh, he turned and went back inside. He stood still in the darkness of of the hall for a while, leaning his back against the door and staring at everything and nothing all at once.

With a slow exhale, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes fell shut. That moment had, in an instant, become like the still quiet after a long battle. It was the kind of stillness where your senses are heightened and everything is somehow sharper, clearer… but you're viewing it from the outside, numb and lost and just empty. It was a stillness which came when there was nowhere to be and nothing to become, no one to fight and nothing to end. It came when something wasn't there, but it should be, and you can't for the life of you remember what's missing.

He dared not look down for fear he'd see his hands as red and dripping and stained.

He dared not look in for fear he'd see a scroll of fire and ash.

He dared not breathe too deep for fear of drowning within himself.

Itachi didn't realize he was doing it at first, but slowly he became aware of his index finger pressing against the dark wood of the door frame, as if searching for something. The realization managed to startle him out of his dark thoughts, and he had to repress the urge to smile. And then, because he was alone and because he knew what he was looking for and because he just _needed_ it, he smiled anyway. He let his fingers slip into the grooves in the wood, the ones he had subconsciously been searching for, and relaxed.

The indentations were small and barely there, created by the dulled blades of a child's shuriken set. With his eyes still closed, Itachi remembered clearly the sharp metallic sound of blades hitting the floor as he stepped through the door and a tiny Sasuke in his early academy years, with his cheeks puffed out and an accusatory hand held aloft in his brother's direction. "You're late again, so I did it on my own!" He had shouted, then turned and disappeared down the hallway, leaving a stunned Itachi standing frozen in the doorway.

There were memories scattered all throughout the old house, he was realizing. Not all of them had to be bad. Not all of them had to hold him down so easily, and perhaps for the first time in many years, Itachi realized that _he himself_ had been the hands holding his head underwater, and he himself had been letting him drown without a fight. It wasn't honorable. It wasn't the shinobi way, it wasn't the Uchiha way, and it certainly wasn't _his_ way. Somehow, somewhere along the lines, it had _become_ his way, and it had to stop before it destroyed the beautiful peace he had been miraculously gifted.

(Itachi had never really believed in miracles, but he had always believed in peace. How was he to find peace in the world if he couldn't even find it in himself? Wasn't it hypocritical for him to wish for Sasuke's salvation whilst condemning himself in the same breath? This was his current reasoning.)

It felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders… as if he was breathing again for the first time in his second life.

Feeling lighter than he had before, Itachi was in the process of pushing away from the door, possibly with the intention of seeking out old photo albums or his parents' keepsakes - assuming, of course, Sasuke hadn't gotten rid of them all years ago, for which he couldn't really be blamed - when suddenly, the door opened. Inwards. Towards him.

The moment the sound reached his ears… the moment he registered the slight shift of movement in the air… the _exact_ moment the edge of the door brushed against his back, all the tension slammed back down onto his shoulders. His muscles tensed, his eyes widened, his mind screamed 'Danger! Danger!' And in less time than it took for a pin to drop, the veteran shinobi had whirled around, his fist thrown forward with deadly accuracy.

… Accept he didn't hit anything.

In fact, he was the one who got hit. In the head. Rather hard, too.

By the edge of the _door_.

He heard a horrified gasp as he stumbled back, and if it weren't for that and the fact that his head was now screaming completely different words that aren't exactly fit to be written in a rated T story, Itachi likely would have kept fighting, and he likely would have won in just seconds. But Itachi didn't fight anymore, at least not for the foreseeable future if he could help it, and it was just _so obvious now_ that he had been completely overreacting. There was no enemy shinobi come to try and kill him while his guard was down. There was no enemy at all, at least not one that was much of a threat, because any good self-respecting adversary wouldn't just come in through the front door like a civilized person. They'd sneak in through the windows or drop on him from the ceiling or something equally as boring and textbook.

And then there was that gasp.

When Itachi finally looked up, he was sitting with his back against the wall and his hand pressed against his throbbing forehead. He saw streaks of red in his vision and fought down the urge to cringe. The door had drawn first blood. How embarrassing.

Peering past his hand, he took a good look at the 'intruder' for the first time. He noticed the distinctly Hyuuga eyes first. She was a young woman, around Ino's age, with pale, delicate features and long raven black hair which shown blue where the light hit it. She sat against the wall across from him, knees drawn up and hands covering her mouth in silent shock or horror. Though her appearance right then was small and fragile, not unlike the physique of a geisha or a young woman raised in a wealthy family, he knew immediately that she was a Kunoichi from the toned muscles of her arms and the thick calluses and scars marring her small hands.

Itachi's first feeling was one of confusion - what the hell was a Hyuuga woman doing in the Uchiha district of all places? - and his second was an even stronger feeling of disbelief which completely drowned out the first. Because he _knew_ her. He had met her somewhere before, a long time ago. He would know the violet in her eyes anywhere.

Deep down in the recesses of his subconsciousness, a memory stirred, beginning with a gentle hand between his shoulders and his mother's quiet voice in his ear.

"This is Hyuuga Hinata, Hiashi-sama's eldest daughter," she said. "She's the heir, just like you. Go on, remember your manners."

He was a child again, standing in the courtyard of the Hyuuga compound, with his father's stern gaze on him from one side and his mother's soft smile on the other. A five year old Sasuke clutched the sleeve of his formal black kimono tightly.

The Hyuuga woman had had short hair as a child, standing in front of him with all the timidness of a fawn, twisting her fingers together and avoiding the gazes of all others behind her bangs. As a ten year old, he stood barely half of a foot taller than her, but for the way she shrunk from his shadow, one would believe he was the height of a mountain, with all the strength and might that went with it.

Even then, he had been powerful. A Jounin, and well on his way to ANBU. All shinobi knew his name, and none outside his clan knew more than the clan leaders, their families, and especially their heirs. He remembered feeling the Hyuuga's cold, pale gazes on him from all directions as his mother's hand pressed him forward, until he was bowing low before the Hyuuga heiress, forcing her to meet his gaze - palest lavender to deepest black.

"Hello, little Hyuuga," he said softly.

She stared back at him, her hands trembling in their own hold, too shy to respond… yet too curious to look away. Itachi offered her his hand. Her silence, he understood. Words were deceiving, while actions alone spoke the soul. She stared back some more and the courtyard grew silent and still. Then, slowly, she lifted her small, yet uncalloused hand to his.

"... Hello, Uchiha-san," she whispered, and smiled.

The now fully grown woman shifted slightly, breaking him from his memory and forcing him back into the present. She leaned forward slightly, folding her legs beneath her, and her face became more worried than shocked. He opened his mouth to say something - perhaps a greeting, perhaps a scolding, or perhaps nothing at all - but she beat him to it.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted, her pale skin taking on a more tomato-like color. "I… I knocked, but nobody answered! And I didn't… I din't think anyone was home anyway! I-I was just going to the… the inner courtyard! I didn't mean… I didn't mean to…!" She gave a small, quiet cry caught somewhere between frustration and embarrassment, and hid her face in her hands.

Itachi blinked, at a loss for words. He was born a prodigy and raised an heir to his clan. He graduated the academy before most his age were able to correctly throw a shuriken, and made a Jounin at half the age of his youngest peers. He was ANBU by twelve and an S-Rank rogue member of the Akatsuki at thirteen. He had eyes sharper than a falcon's and a tongue twice as sharp as it was silver. The young man could get himself out of almost any situation except for a rare few… and this was one of them.

How does one deal with a distraught woman?

Oh, he was better than most men, by far. He was his mother's son, after all. But that didn't make the task any less difficult or daunting.

In the end, he shook his head and sighed, pushing his hair back from his face and moving to stand. Hinata watched him from between her fingers, their paleness contrasting sharply against her red face. Due to the relatively small size of the hallway, it took only a small step - more of a shuffle, really, if one analyzed it hard enough (don't) - until he was standing directly before her. For a brief moment, he imagined he could still feel his mother's hand urging him forward into a bow.

Just like before, long ago, he offered his hand. He could have said something to her, like 'Hello, little Hyuuga', or something equally as full-circle and novellistically cliche, but he didn't. For the eyes spoke more sincerely than the tongue - even those as destructive as his - and actions screamed louder than words ever could.

… Well, the thought was nice, at least, but however quiet and meaningful Itachi could be, he wasn't _completely_ mute. He had his moments.

"... Tea?" he offered.

And Hinata? She remained about as shocked and confused as he had expected. And that was fine. _That_ , at least, he could handle.

Slowly, the younger woman lifted her hand to his, her fingers calloused and rough but light all the same.

"... Okay," she said, and though she was still hopelessly, _entirely_ confused (the man is supposedly _dead_ , after all, we mustn't forget), she smiled.


	14. 14. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first good talk is over bad tea and worse memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugggghhhhhhh.... hn......
> 
> Yea, I've got no excuse.
> 
> Go nuts.

_“I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”  
-Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_  
~.~

She knew him. 

_Of course_ she knew him. 

Everyone knew the man who had been born an heir, raised a prodigy, lived a murderer, and died a martyr. He was the man whose actions had forever changed the dynamics and foundations of Konoha. His story had forced the village to permanently change the way it was governed, to purge the tainted parts and rebuild the whole, and to make sure that everyone knew what they had done so that it could never happen again. This man was nearly legendary. His name was still being whispered with respect and reverence across the nations beyond the Land of Fire. 

His name was Uchiha Itachi, and he was _supposed to be dead._

Now, whether his state of living was outside the ordinary or not, Hinata couldn't much fault him for it. Plenty of people were alive or had been alive who shouldn't be, Orochimaru being a prime example. This did not stop her from being wary of his intentions. She stepped lightly and carefully as she followed him to the kitchen, eyes fixed on the gentle sway of his long dark hair, and she hardly dared to breathe the whole way. Her fingers twitched reflexively where they hung next to her thigh, aching to reach for the kunai and shuriken she had tucked away in the pouch there.

Hinata was kind. She cared. She had given many the benefit of the doubt, even those who had been less than deserving, and her opinions of the goodness in people were not easily swayed. But Hinata was a skilled Kunoichi and a veteran of the worst war the lands had seen in an age, and she was not stupid, nor was she blind. Many a bad situation could easily be hidden by a pretty face and familiar actions. Some kind words were just not meant to be taken at face value.

As they entered the kitchen, Itachi went to the sink, the clink of ceramic and the sound of running water replacing the silence between them as he washed the few dishes remaining. He turned his face to the side when he heard one of the chairs at the table scrape back across the floor. 

Hinata sat stiffly, her spine straight and her hands clasped tightly. She watched as a thin beam of light escaped from the curtains covering the small window above the sink, highlighting the strong line of the older man's jaw, tracing the almost delicate curve of his nose and drawing her focus almost completely on his long eyelashes. His dark eyes held her still for a short second, and their depth sent a bolt of fear burning through her blood. But then he shifted away again, and Hinata all but tore her gaze away, staring down at the table with the heat of embarrassment caught in her cheeks.

“Naruto told me you would likely come by today,” he began, startling her even though she had been expecting it. “I apologize, I was caught off guard. I did not expect you'd be here so early.”

It was rare to hear a shinobi admit he was caught off guard, let alone an Uchiha (at least in her experience), and Hinata bowed her head respectfully without quite having to tell herself to. “My apologies, Uchiha-san, I... Had I known of your presence here, I would have… I would have first initiated written correspondence a-and asked your permission before entering your home. It was... short sighted of me, I think.”

“No, not short sighted,” Itachi said. The water shut off and the lack of the noise was sharp. She watched him set the kettle to boil, stiffening once more as he came to the table. His movements were slow and deliberate as he sat across from her. Again, his eyes captured her, and she found herself unable to look away. Their effect was such that she would not be surprised if they suddenly shone scarlet red.

(The hint of a scrape on his forehead didn't escape her notice, either, and she felt her guilt returning full force.)

“... P-pardon?” she managed.

“You didn't know I was here. I wouldn't expect you to look so far ahead. This incident was no short sight on your part. If anything, the fault is mine... I knew you were coming, but I did not prepare accordingly.” He dipped his head, a respectful gesture often used between equals of high standing that had rarely ever been used for Hinata. “I apologize, Hyuuga-san. The short sight was mine.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

It struck her as odd that they, two children born of incredible dojutsu, would be using metaphors for lack of sight. The way he spoke also sounded strange to her ears. It was as if his formality was specifically meant to keep a polite distance between him and everyone else, as if he was setting his boundaries and still maintaining politeness. Hinata did so because she was raised to, and because it was an effective form of defense in regards to her clan. She wondered if for Itachi, it was just a way of surviving. She wondered how many years he had spent using his words and lack of words to dance the line between life and death. Hinata thought it was likely he had been doing so even before he fled Konoha.

Itachi looked away then, his fingertip lightly scratching at the table in thought. “Do you remember me?” he asked finally.

Hinata nodded. “A little.” She forced herself to speak slowly and carefully so as not to stutter. “Memories of you are all quite vague. I remember most the things I heard about you. Especially after…” Her hands trembled, she folded them discreetly tighter. What she was thinking, bringing up that particular past so soon, she didn't know, and could only silently scold herself for the slip.

To her surprise, Itachi remained largely unfazed, almost as if he hadn't heard at all. He tipped his head a bit, a curious look. She thought she almost saw a smile there. “You've come a long way since last I saw you,” he said.

Hinata blinked back at him, at a momentary loss for what to say. She swallowed thickly. “I… I like to think so, Uchiha-san.”

His eyes shifted down, to the bag she had brought with her, resting next to her chair leg. “Tell me, what is it you are doing in the garden? I haven't been out to see yet.”

Hinata couldn't yet decide if she was grateful or not for the change in topic. She supposed having to speak more was a fair exchange for a potentially awkward silence. “Well, I haven't been working with it long. Ino is showing me how to care for it to… well, to give me something to keep me busy while I'm not on missions.”

Ino had known Hinata needed something to keep her out of the compound as much as possible. To help her stay as safe and as sane as possible. Hanabi hadn't really understood at first, but when she had come along one day, she went home knowing that whether the work was menial and boring or not didn't matter. Her older sister was relaxed and, well, happier at least. She needed the time to herself with no worries, and she couldn't fault her for that. Not with the cold cutthroat environment they lived in.

“It is Autumn now though, so… so I don't… It… I can't -” she cut herself off, looking down at her hands in shame. She'd gone and got herself worked up again. “It won't work,” she finished simply.

“But you'll try it anyway?” Itachi asked.

Hinata nodded.

He actually did smile then, a small, quick flash that only seemed to linger as an after image. “Your determination is admirable. I think my mother would have taken comfort in the knowledge that her gardens have been left in yours and Ino's care.”

His words hit the younger woman like a handful of ice water. She sat frozen in place, staring back at him with her eyes widened in shock. Her mind conjured up an image she knew well, of the tiny picture Sasuke had found one day during one of his brief returns home, held in gentle fingers and tucked away somewhere on his person while he traveled. She remembered seeing him take it out when he thought no one was paying attention, just to hold, to look, to remember. An image of his mother, smiling and radiant and happy, holding onto a toddler Sasuke and a youthful, serene Itachi like they were the most precious things on earth to her. 

It struck Hinata how incredibly important it was that the eldest Uchiha brother had given his consent and his blessing to her work in this way, and that of his mother - the beautiful, caring woman he and Sasuke had cherished so much - by extension. _Please don't_ , she wanted to say. _Don't give me this. I don't deserve this. Not from you_. No words made it passed the sudden dryness of her throat.

She was saved from having to try and articulate a response by the mournful keening of the teapot.

 

When Naruto got home later that day, it was with a head that ached with the knowledge Iruka had drilled into him and a rather sizable package of high quality teas (most of which was Gyokuro, for which Itachi had previously stated his preference). Along with the tea, he held a small container of honey. He knew Hinata enjoyed the sweet hint of it in her tea whenever she was over, and when Sasuke was home, the Uchiha had the habit of indulging her. 

It wasn't odd for him to bring back all manner of sweet things for her and Hanabi from his travels. Oh, Sasuke made it seem like it was no big deal, of course. Like he had only gotten anything at all because he happened to be passing by and it was only logical. But Naruto saw the way his eyes softened when the usually calm, cold Hanabi’s face lit up at the sight of the gifts, or when Hinata smiled serenely up at him as she gave him her thanks. Sasuke went out of his way to do it, not for any sort of perceived convenience, but because he liked to see them happy.

When this happened, Naruto did not point it out. He did not tease or joke about it, not even to coax a rare blush from him. He simply his a smile of his own and went back to whatever he was doing. It had taken years for Sasuke to get to this point, where compassion flowed freely, almost like it used to when he was a young child, before his world fell apart. 

He was still quiet, still stoic, and it was doubtful that this would ever change, but regardless, he still tolerated Sakura when she was stressed out about her wedding plans. He allowed ino to twist different flowers in his hair to see how they looked. He visited Shikamaru sometimes, to play shogi or just keep the lonely man company in silence. Sometimes, he went with Hinata to Neji's grave, though he hadn't known him well, and allowed her to place some of her flowers next to Itachi's gravestone. He was learning to be kind. He was thoughtful. And he still found it in him to love Naruto.

It wasn't perfect, but it was there, and Naruto couldn't be more proud of him. He knew Itachi would feel the same way when he saw Sasuke again, and all the changes he had gone through. It was only a matter of time. Of course, Naruto would never tell Sasuke how proud he was. Knowing the bastard, he’d probably just quit out of spite.

His eyes widened immediately upon opening the door. There, in the entryway, was Itachi… and he was on his hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

“Um… what are you doing?” he asked, stepping gingerly over the threshold and bending to remove his shoes. “I promise I cleaned the floors not too long ago. They should be good for awhile.”

Itachi huffed - _huffed!_ \- and pushed his bangs behind his ear as he stood. He scrutinized his work with narrowed eyes. “Do you see any red?” he asked.

Naruto raised an eyebrow. “Uh… no. Why? Did someone die?”

“Nearly,” Itachi muttered.

“ _What_?” Naruto's bag hit the floor loudly (courtesy of the textbooks Iruka had forced on him that were way too heavy to be any good for his spine). “Did someone get in? Were you attacked? Are you alright?” Naruto froze, hand reaching for his weapons pouch. “ _Are they still here_?” He whispered loudly.

Itachi took a moment to absorb all the questions Naruto had fired at him, tilted his head a bit, and said, “... Yes, I think,” in an attempt to answer them all at once.

Naruto felt his tolerance for Uchiha Bullshit™ begin to lower rapidly. “Yes? _Yes_?! Itachi, I don't think you realize just how dead I would be if I let something happen to you before Sasuke got home!” He sighed, making an effort to speak calmly. If it were Sasuke, he would have picked a fight already and called it good, but he was still just a little bit afraid of the infamous older brother. “Is it taken care of now?” 

“You could say that.”

“Did you get hurt?”

He thought he saw Itachi's jaw clench a short moment before he turned to face Naruto fully, lifting one side of his bangs from his forehead for him to see. Naruto stared for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it halfway through, and went back to staring. He ran over their conversation in his mind from the moment he opened the door. Finally, he said, “So, like… you just… I don't know, you just hit your head or something?”

Naruto watched as Itachi's jaw clenched a little further, dark eyes shifting to glare (and boy, did that make him shiver) over his shoulder. “This isn't over,” he said quietly, all dark and cryptic-like. Naruto resisted the urge to facepalm.

“Gods, you're just like your brother, y'know,” he sighed, shaking his head as he moved past him down the hall, vowing to forget about it entirely before his tolerance ran dry and began drawing from his life expectancy (though in all reality, the situation was laughable, and he would be sure to tell Sasuke about it when he got the chance). He missed the bewildered look on Itachi's face at being compared to his brother.

Naruto made a beeline for the large communal room he knew housed the door to the inner gardens, handing Itachi the bag of tea and honey. He changed the subject before Itachi had a chance to respond. “Did Hinata ever stop by? I don't think she wouldn't say something to me if she had decided not to, but her life is pretty crazy sometimes, so you never know.”

“Yes, we had tea, and I let her into the gardens not ten minutes ago,” he said, peering curiously into the bag. His nose scrunched up a little at the sight of the honey, having never been too fond of sweet things, but he let out a pleased hum when he saw Naruto had brought his favorite tea. “I've had entirely too much tea today for my own good, but I'll set it aside for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure,” Naruto replied absently as he opened the sliding door to the gardens. The light that fell through into the room was tinted a soft shade of rouge as evening approached. The blond smiled fondly at whatever he saw there. “I'll see her out safely myself, so don't worry about it. Just do whatever, I guess. I mean, It's your house, so…”

Itachi shook his head, but resisted the urge to correct him. It hadn't been his house for a very long time. He watched Naruto slip through the door and let it fall softly shut, and let himself relax into the silence his parting left. The kind of silence which embraces you whenever someone so bright exits the room and leaves you alone, but not lonely… the satisfying kind which doesn't leave you empty. 

Itachi once again caught a smile forming on his lips, and once again, he let it linger a little. He had been doing that a lot lately - smiling, feeling content - and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. But for the first time in a long while, he shoved his incessant worries aside and allowed himself to look ahead. Itachi may not have known why he had been given a second chance when there were so many others more deserving, but assuming this wasn't all some cruel joke… assuming he wouldn't just wake up in an Akatsuki base somewhere with his life newly murdered at his feet and the broken shards of his heart in his hands… 

He shook his head again, a bit more forcefully this time, and turned in the direction of his room. Whatever this life was that he was living, gifts or tricks aside, Itachi wouldn't waste it. He would live it and he would live it well, and when the time came to see Sasuke again, he would be sure to love his brother the way he hadn't been able to in the past. And this time, he would make sure Sasuke knew it. It would take some time, but come hell or high water, they would be a family again. With new faces, granted, but with the same constant.

That constant was happiness, and Itachi supposed it was worth getting used to.


End file.
